


Trials and Tribulations

by MaLady335



Series: DS9: Vorta and Jem'Hadar leave the Dominion AU [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internal Conflict, Medical Experimentation, Mental Instability, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Dominion War (Star Trek), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Prisoner of War, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Therapy, Victim Blaming, Vorta centric, War Crimes, Worldbuilding, rating for dark topic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27971045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaLady335/pseuds/MaLady335
Summary: With the war over the Jem'Hadar are free, the Vorta however await their trial for their war crimes, or are they? Weyoun and Keevan, trapped together in a cell with no date set for their future trials.Sequel to The Games We Play
Series: DS9: Vorta and Jem'Hadar leave the Dominion AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048642
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple of chapters of this written already but it's not finished. It will most likely be much shorter and more focused on Weyoun's internal struggle and distrust of the Federation. So far no smut is planned, this is mainly a political follow up to The Games We Play.

Federation prison was not what he was expecting. Maybe it was because his experience had been with how The Dominion treated their prisoners. The treatment was much more benign than he had anticipated. Another thing he hadn’t expected was to be put in the same cell as Keevan. Not that he hated Keevan or anything. After their work together to take down The Dominion and free their people they’d earned a sort of respect for one another.

It’s just that Weyoun hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the whole Dukat situation. He also didn’t trust the Federation’s motives. Now that the war was over it was clear that the Federation wasn’t cutting any of their former enemies any slack. Despite the Federations bombing of several Jem’Hadar training facilities(aka nurseries full of children) that had been established in the Alpha Quadrant. They weren’t putting any of their people in here it seemed. Just their former enemies who’d helped them eliminate The Dominion threat. Not that Weyoun was bitter or anything.

Both Keevan and Weyoun were awaiting trial. Keevan had hardly acknowledged him since he joined him as his cellmate three days ago. If he was just as bitter about the Federations treatment he was staying silent about it. Weyoun didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. He didn’t want to give Keevan the impression that he forgave him or viewed him as a friend. Not that Vorta made friends, especially with each other.

“What do you think they’re hoping to get?” Keevan asked seemingly out of nowhere.

“What?” Weyoun asked feeling out of the loop.

“The Federation. What do you think they hope to get by rooming us together?” Keevan clarified. 

Weyoun hadn’t thought of that, “Assuming they’re monitoring..”

“Of course they’re monitoring.” Keevan interrupted with an exasperated tone.

“ASSUMING their monitoring” Weyoun restarted, he hated being interrupted, “it’s probably to hear us admit to whatever crimes they believe we’ve committed.”

Keevan hummed in his throat, one of his feet dangling down from the top bunk, “I suppose so. I was guessing for us to reveal top secret Dominion stashes.”

“They haven’t found them all yet then?” Weyoun asked.

“Not last I knew.” His foot stopped it’s light pendulum swing, “The Jem’Hadar Alliance took off after it as soon as they disbanded.” 

“Is that why I haven’t seen any Jem’Hadar here?” It had been on his mind.

“Possibly. Or because the Jem’Hadar are a military force while we Vorta are not.” Keevan sounded tired. I guess you would be on your 14th generation.

“That hadn’t occurred to me.” It did make a sort of sense.

Without the Jem’Hadar the Vorta were entirely without protection or any sort of military might to back them up. They were quite literally defenseless. It had been part of the deal that the Vorta and Jem’Hadar would part ways. The Vorta had taken the smaller portion of The ex-Dominion pie. Partially because there were so few of them compared to the Jem’Hadar but also because the Jem’Hadar had suffered more widely than the Vorta under the Founders. It only seemed fair that they get more resources while they try to break out of the addiction to the white and establish themselves as a people rather than a military force. But just because the Jem’Hadar had agreed to leave the occupied Gama Quadrant planets previously under The Dominion that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. They were still the Jem’Hadar while the Vorta were only just Vorta. The bureaucratic hand of The Dominion, they were not liked much by anyone.

“Did you get your listing of crimes?” Keevan asked after several minutes.

“Not yet what about you?” Weyoun answered.

“Me neither.” Keevan sighed, “I’m starting to wonder whether we choose the right government to go to. The Bajorans at least would have made for a much faster process.”

“They still haven’t told me when my trial is.” 

“I haven’t been told either. I wonder if there is even going to be a trial? Last time I was here it was for months but I was alone so it felt much longer.” There was a brief pause, “So I’m thankful that you’re here. Even if you aren’t.” His voice was soft.

“I appreciate that Keevan.” Honesty about yourself was a rare gift for a Vorta to give.

They fell into a companionable silence for the rest of the day. The prison was almost entirely automated. Almost all of their needs were taken care of in the cells. There was a replicator that wasn’t accessible except for meal times. The bathroom was small and had only a shower and toilet and very little space between it. The bathroom also didn’t have a door but a screen. The night cycle was automated to last 10hrs to every 14hrs of light. 

There were a few guards but that was mainly for transferring someone to some other part of the facility. Such as a medical check up or the two hours he gets in a sort of open area every two days. Moving about was also the only way to know just who was in the prison since they were kept in separate and seemingly sound proof cells. Weyoun could have sworn he’d seen Damar down a hall at one point but mostly he saw Vorta with the occasional Breen.

The one thing he didn’t like leaving his cell for was for the therapist. It became quite clear in their first session that whoever had assigned them here hadn’t considered their knowledge on Vorta beforehand. It was immensely frustrating to see them fumble through frameworks of mental stability that just did not apply to Vorta. In the Andorian’s defense it was clear they were just as annoyed at being under prepared. 

“I know you’ve stated you don’t have parents and never had a childhood but there must have been some sort of guiding influence for you?” Dr. Th’rohriss asked.

Weyoun sighed, “No, outside of the scientists that assist for the thirty minute adjustment time all necessary knowledge and skills are downloaded directly into our brains before we awaken. Our guides for living was the Founders who we served.” Weyoun found explaining such basic concepts both boring and pointless. 

“How often did you see a Founder?” At least a different kind of question for once.

“I didn’t meet one till after the death of my 4th iteration when I was promoted to Dominion representative.” He answered, the sound of the notes the Andorian was taking seemed loud.

“Is that normal for Vorta to go so long without meeting your creators?” They sat the padd down on their lap whenever they would ask a question.

“I wouldn’t know. Vorta do not waste time having such small discussions.” The lights in this prison seemed to always be too bright.

“So how did you know that the Founders were real if you never met them till so late in your life?” Another pointless question.

“It wasn’t ‘late in my life’ it was only a few days after my 5th was awakened. And I knew because of course they existed The Dominion exists to serve them.” There must be some kind of packet or something that can inform them of these basic concepts.

“I apologize for my wording” they started, “But the Dominion doesn’t exist anymore remember?” That was a question, as if Weyoun hadn’t helped tear it down.

“I’m well aware of that, as are you of my involvement with it’s falling. Just because it’s gone doesn’t change it’s importance to me.” Why did these sessions always feel so long.

“So you still find the Dominion important to you, even now?”

“Of course. It is why I and every Vorta exist. It’s why the Jem’Hadar exist. Where would we be without the Founders and The Dominion?” Answering the same question but with different words again.

“You sound nostalgic for it?”

Weyoun shrugged, “I had a purpose with them. What is wrong with wanting a purpose?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that Weyoun. Everyone wants to be valued.”

He huffed, “Having value and having purpose are not the same.”

“That maybe a translation issue. How are they different to you?” Weyoun had a hard time keeping eye contact so he usually just watched their antenna or moved his eyes about the room.

“Value is about your worth, being a commodity, without action or will of your own. Purpose is something you act on and work for. It’s entirely about your participation while value isn’t.” 

“It sounds like you don’t like to be seen as without agency.” Weyoun found their office just as uninteresting as them, “Why don’t we shift this topic? We’ve had several sessions yet you’ve hardly mentioned your involvement with ending the war till today.”

“So?” Weyoun shrugged.

“It happened less than a month ago, isn’t there something you’d like to discuss about it?”

“The Dominion is over what more is there to discuss.” What would he need to talk about?

Dr. Th’rohriss looked like they were holding in a sigh, “For one what do you want to do now?”

“I don’t understand the question.” Weyoun was getting very tired of these useless questions.

“What are you having trouble understanding?” The patience in their voice was annoying. He didn’t like being patronized. 

“All of it. I don’t know. It’s not something I can answer.” They had to be getting close to the end of session by now right?

“Why can’t you answer it?” As if it wasn’t obvious.

“Why do you think?”

“I asked you first Weyoun.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“If it is it wouldn’t hurt for you to tell me. You’ve explained several other obvious aspects of your life to me so far.” That’s true at least.

“Because I do not get a say in something like that.”

“Why wouldn’t you get a say in your future?”

It seemed like Weyoun was sighing with frustration after every question, “Vorta do not get a say. We were designed to do as we’re told.”

“Yet you disobeyed the Dominion? You helped bring it down.”

“I wasn’t technically Vorta anymore.” He’d been cast out.

“What about Weyoun 6? He also rebelled and he was very much Vorta?”

“He was defective.” Obviously.

“How was he defective?”

“He didn’t follow command.” 

“Following orders are not a person’s entire existence Weyoun.”

“They are in The Dominion.”

“The Dominion is over.”

“I know that.”

“Than why is thinking about your future so hard? Isn’t that what you rebelled for?”

“Your being very presumptuous about my motives.”

“I did not mean to be. I would still like you to answer the question.”

“I’ve already answered it. Vorta don’t get a choice.” How can this be so hard to grasp?

“But you choose to rebel instead of follow commands.”

“I wasn’t a Vorta anymore.”

“What about Keevan?” That question had Weyoun giving him a confused look.

“What about him?” Of all the things to ask about.

“You keep repeating about how Vorta don’t get to choose but Keevan also chose to rebel. Does that make him less Vorta?” He...hadn’t thought about that.

“I don’t know. It’s not my place to say.”

“Let me guess, only the Founders get a say?” It seems their finally catching on.

“Of course they created us.” 

“You aren’t under their control now.”

“Not their control no.”

“Do you mean you believe you’re under someone else’s control?”

“Of course why else would I be here?” Weyoun’s patience was running out, “Why else would I be here talking to you? I’m not a fool Dr. Th’rohriss neither are the other Vorta. We’re well aware of the Federation’s vested interest in us. Why else would we be here?” The psychiatrist visible tensed at his repeated question, their antenna stopping their usual rhythmic movements.

“I was informed you were awaiting trial for your war crimes. What other reason do you think the Federation would imprison you?” Are they this oblivious?

“If we were awaiting trial than why has no one seemingly gotten their list of crimes or updates at all about them? Why is there so many more Vorta in this facility than any other species? I have a hard time believing you to be so blind to this Th’rohriss? You’ve see how many Vorta in a day and it never occurred to you that it was odd that so many of us are here without knowledge of our supposed trials?”

“I can see why you’d be upset and distrusting with such a lack of information.” The change in their tone was clear to Weyoun. His questions had shook something in them. Good, he was tired of this holier than thou attitude every Federation operative seems to have. Why should he be the only one to face unhappy truths? 

End of Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Dr. Th’rohriss’s perspective

Dr. Oris Th’rohriss like the other dozen therapists to arrive at the prison was in over their head, they all were. The Dominion hadn’t been on the radar even three years ago and now prisons were flooded with Vorta who needed evaluations. And those evaluations were made almost impossible due to the lack of ability to judge what was normal or usual for a culture the Federation has had very little contact with. Dr. Th’rohriss was also suspicious. Why were there SO MANY Vorta in a single facility? Why hadn’t any of their patients heard any news about their trial or crimes? It was getting on their nerves. The facility didn’t just have Vorta it had most of the major players on the Dominion side of the war. But the sheer amount of Vorta was baffling to them. It felt like they had every Vorta in both quadrants here. Weyoun’s comments having furthered their suspicions. If Dr. Th’rohriss’s patients were picking up something wrong than it wasn’t just them. It’s why they approached Lieutenant T’ma about it. She has been on facility for years so if anyone were to know what was usual for this process it was her. She was their commanding officer in medical and from what they could tell she was fantastic in her work, though what Vulcan wasn’t. She was pipetting something, Th’rohriss approached her she turned to look at them but didn’t stop her pipetting

“Dr. Th’rohriss is there something I can help you with?” She asked with her usual neutral tone.

“I have been wondering about some aspects of my patients,” They started, “My Vorta one’s specifically.”

“Such as?” She asked for clarification. 

“Such as when are their trials? Or when are our evaluations due? With the number of Vorta here and without knowing when my work is due how can I know when to speed things along?” They tried to make their reasoning for asking such questions as clear as possible.

“I am head of medical, not law or justice. I haven’t heard any news on when the trails for the Vorta will begin or when to begin wrapping up our research.” She stated, “So I am as much in the dark about this as you are.”

“What sort of research?” They asked finding it a little questionable that the Federation would be doing research on their prisoners.

She looked back to her pipetting, “That is classified.” Was her answer. 

“Is there at least some sort of sources the Federation have on the Vorta? So far these weeks have been wasted on trying to figure out what is the baseline for Vorta and I’m still far from figuring that out.” There had to be something she could do.

She paused her pipetting to think for a moment, “There are sources not in the official Federation database. I suppose I could see about getting a hold of those records for you and the other therapists’ use.” She looked at them, “But I could only make an argument for those unsubstantiated documents if they were deemed necessary.”

“They are necessary. If you or the Federation want accurate assessments on the Vorta than we need all the information we can get.” 

“I’ll see to it then.” She nodded at them before returning to her pipetting.

Conversation seemingly over they turned to head back to their office to wrap up some paperwork. The mention of research had a flag raise in their head. Federation law prohibited research on prisoners or other wards of the state. So why was their research being done on the Vorta here? If it was simply about their culture or something else along those lines than it would fit under anthropological study not ‘research’ that the medical wing would be in charge of. Th’rohiss and many others who worked under the Federation were often considered naive due to the Federations ‘pie in the sky’ view of things. The bizarre human saying seemed fitting for how those outside the Federation viewed Federation ideals. The thing most outsiders don’t realize is that Federation ideals may at first appear very hopeful and naive but Th’rohiss has seen time and time again how short sited and self-centered the Federation is. 

They wished they had a more close relationship to their Vulcan colleges to discuss this since they’ve both been apart of the Federation since almost it’s inception. Because as Th’rohiss has grown older and seen how Earth centered the Federation is and watched as their children and grandchildren aren’t taught their own culture in Federation in schools the more they wonder if the Federation is as benevolent as it seems? 

Th’rohiss themselves remember growing up and having a distance from their Andorian culture but at the time cared more about fitting in within the Federation. Their grandparents had been bitter in their old age about the decision to join the Federation and to allow Federation hands to be in so much of Andorian culture and politics. In their youth they had dismissed these concerns as their grandparents just not able to give up their old ways and change for the better. But now looking around where the only other Andorians they see is their family over calls a few times a week, for sometimes months on end. They are beginning to think that the relationship the Federation has with non-Earth cultures is unhealthy. 

Paperwork was not Th’rohiss’s favorite part of their job but it was the most tedious which made it great for distracting them from their thoughts. Since they weren’t given a clear timeline for turning in their evaluations they felt comfortable just continuing to work on their notes. They hoped T’ma would be able to give them those documents soon. Right now all of their sessions were just ending up as them writing a summary of Vorta norms and basic cultural differences. Which was not very conducive for identifying their patients stability when they didn’t even know what stable looked like. They had some ideas of what was normal for Vorta after having to spend so much of their time with them. The main one being the level of distrust they had and the seemingly giant wall each of them surrounded themselves with. Andorians were often seen as distrustful though Th’rohiss disagreed. A lot of Andorian culture viewed trust as one of the most valuable things to be given so withholding it till you knew someone was worthy of it was just the norm. 

It was part of why they went into psychology, especially xeno-psychology. They had a theory that they’ve been writing about that there is no perfectly defined level of mental health like the Federation taught. What is mentally stable changes across cultures. On Betazed being open about your thoughts and discussing them in detail is as common as talking about the weather while on Vulcan that would be considered a sign of instability. A lot of Federation research often likes to play up biology as if our bodies are the sole defining factor of our differences. Which to Th’rohiss that seemed extremely limiting, especially since their own writing about differences in just Andorian cultural practices often end up getting flagged as ‘non-traditional Andorian practices’ as if a planet of several billions were expected to only have one way of practicing certain tasks and all others were deviations.

So they at least related to the Vorta and their distrust, however at least by Andorian standards theirs went way beyond what would be considered a level of healthy boundaries and right into deep paranoia. The problem was though they had yet to meet a single Vorta that didn’t have this deep paranoid level of distrust. It wasn’t even just limited to them, a non-Vorta. To hear any of them talk about their cellmates it’s clear they have this same level of distrust even for and possibly more so for other Vorta. It was puzzling and they hadn’t figured out either the root cause or what exactly they will be writing about this aspect in their evaluations. And the walls they have built around themselves were especially frustrating to deal with. From all of their patients whenever they would try to get them to discuss or engage with their emotions they would talk around it. Or try and turn the question around on them. And whenever they got any answers they were almost always the same phrases, erily the same.’The Founders do not approve of such things’, ‘no Vorta does/feels x’, ‘because the Founders willed it so’, ‘we lived only to serve the Founders’, ‘x is not what a Vorta is for’ were just some of the things they’ve heard out of many different mouths but all said the same way.

It was worrying to say the least. Not only in that seemingly not a single Vorta had a sense of self to the point where several of them seemed on the verge of being catatonic now that they didn’t serve the Founders. But because the way they talked about the Dominion and their lives it sounded more like a cult than a religion. The thing is if they were to list them all as being brainwashed under a cult the Federation would not accept it. It would put them under a different category of criminality, one that meant they weren’t entirely in control of their actions. Something Th’rohiss is starting to believe is closer to the truth than that every Vorta was simply created, birthed to desire to enact the evil deeds of the Dominion. Due to the kind of work they are doing Th’rohiss has been looking up similar cases and there is one that stuck out to them. 

The Nuremburg trials of Earth, before the trials all of the Nazi’s had been evaluated to see what was it about them psychologically that made them do such horrible things. And those evaluations revealed that they were just normal people with normal lives and desires, yet they had done some horrible things and didn’t feel any guilt about it. When asked why they did it they would often respond with ‘I was ordered to’ as if an order, an authority took hold of their agency and hand to do those things rather than themselves. The thing about this instance is that they see a similarity, but not with the Vorta. Both the Breen and Cardassians on site use the fact they were ordered to do something as if it is both explanation and excuse. The Vorta however will tell you in detail of why they did something. Weyoun once explained to them why Weyoun 5 had banned non-Dominion media to leave Bajor and he had said plainly that allowing non-Dominion press out of Bajor would reveal the similarities the Bajoran people were experiencing to the Cardassian occupation and that he did not want the authoritarianism of the Dominion to be as well known in the Alpha Quadrant till they had a firmer hand on it. When Th’rohiss had asked Damar the same question he had told them he blocked these things because Dukat had ordered him to.

This kind of difference worries Th’rohiss because it shows that the Vorta were well aware of what they were doing, yet they continued to do it. When asked why Weyoun did it knowing it would harm the Bajoran people he got a confused expression. Weyoun then asked them if their gods were to come down and tell them to harm the person next to them or else they would be stricken down would they? Th’rohiss said they wouldn’t.

“Than the gods would just get someone else to do it. Except now you not only don’t exist but have no afterlife to go to. Those around you would erase you from their minds. Anything you have ever made or partaken in would be changed to remove you from it as much as possible. You simply would cease to have ever existed. Knowing that would you still not do it?” With that Th’rohiss hesitated.

“I’m not sure. That’s not a kind of position I’ve ever been in.” They responded honestly, hoping that would establish a sense of trust.

However this backfired, “Than you have no way of understanding me or any other Vorta. That is what every choice I, any other Vorta or the Jem’Hadar maked entails.”

It was with statements like that which made Th’rohiss feel deeply out of their element.

End of Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Weyoun had never spent so much time with another Vorta before and he was hating it. Trapped in a small, white space that was so bright it made it difficult for his eyes to differentiate between the walls and the floors, it was getting to him. Keevan for his part wasn’t ‘doing’ anything to cause Weyoun’s agitation and that made him even angrier. It’s not like Keevan was disrespecting him or invading his space or any of the things he was used to infuriating him. No Keevan wasn’t doing anything wrong yet Weyoun was angry that he was here. It’s not like his breathing was loud, even his sighs were quiet, yet they grated on Weyoun’s nerves. Having no real source for his anger just made it worse because he didn’t even have a reason to be angry he just was.

If Keevan was just as bothered by Weyoun he did not show it. They hardly spoke, the likelihood of surveillance weighing heavily on them. The lack of sound made the rare noises seem overwhelming. Soft rustle of slippers touching the floor sounded as loud as if a shuttle was flying above his head. And to Weyoun therapy wasn’t helping. Dr. Th’rohriss seemed to be doing the best they can but Weyoun doesn’t trust them and even if he did they just have no way to understand or truly help him. If that was even their job which it wasn’t. They were to evaluate him for his trial, not be there to help him, even though as it rolled into month two it seemed their sessions were less ‘what the hell are Vorta even’ and more constant back and forths about The Dominion. Therapy was his least favorite parts of his week, but at least he didn’t have to be stuck with Keevan for it. Weyoun’s time in the open area every few days were by far his favorite time. He got all that space to himself. In the past Weyoun wasn’t very physically active. It was unbecoming of a Vorta to behave so. But now the Dominion is gone, the Vorta as they were are no more. So he runs and runs, until he sweats, until he his panting. It would hurt his sides and burn his lungs and he kept on running because that was what he wanted. That pain, the reminder that he was alive, that he does feel something. 

Weyoun wasn’t sure if he was offended by Keevan’s silence or relieved by it. What would they even talk about? What would he have to say or even want to say to Keevan? Dr. Th’rohriss keeps trying to encourage him to talk to Keevan, saying something about him ‘connecting with his people through him’. As if Weyoun ever had any connection to other Vorta. And honestly he doesn’t know if he wants to build one. Or maybe that was his bitterness about before breaking through? Old resentments at being replaced, betrayed by someone he found out would be in a fate worse than discontinuation if his 6th iteration hadn’t stood up for him to only be gladly handed over to Dukat to use at the first chance of a promotion. The thing is Weyoun wished he hated him for that, but he doesn’t. Because Weyoun doesn’t know if he wouldn’t have done the same thing? At least Weyoun 5 would have, or even IF him, Weyoun 7 would. He awoke as his 7th already in disgrace, who would he have been if he hadn’t? He tries not to think to much about that. The realization that he ‘would’ have turned a blind eye to what he suffered if it was put on someone else instead of him hurt. It hurt because he’s no different from Keevan or any other Vorta. Was Weyoun 6 really that different?

What was it about him that made him so special? So different that he couldn’t take seeing himself or others be treated this way huh? Weyoun 7 doesn’t even have his memories to go through to see and feel what he went through. To know how he was different through them. Because they took those memories from him, but why? The reveal of his attempted coop of The Dominion makes him think it was for more than just ‘to spare him’ as Keevan told him. Weyoun supposed he could ask Keevan. He was laying on his bunk in his favorite position, one foot dangling, arms behind his head, eyes closed. How could Keevan be so calm about this?

“You had said Weyoun 6’s memories were taken away from me to ‘spare me’.” Weyoun broke the heavy silence that had been resting between them for weeks.

“And?” Keevan’s voice was always so soft, even for a Vorta.

“And is that the truth? What was in them?” Weyoun asked leaning onto the bunk bed, his fingers wrapped around the cool metal.

Keevan sighed heavily, “I don’t know what was in them, I wasn’t allowed to see them. I assume they were taken to stop you from knowing who to contact and how to try and start another revolution.” His tone bored with an underline of agitation.

“They clearly hadn’t considered that you would help me.” Weyoun thought aloud. After weeks of silence it felt good to say something.

“Of course they hadn’t who had ever heard of a Vorta helping another.” Keevan answered in a matter of fact way.

“Indeed. If only they had known about Weyoun 6 helping you.” That had Keevan turning to him.

“You’re really gonna bring that up?” The indignation in his voice.

“Should I not bring it up?” He asked, curious on top of just wanting to be petty.

“Weyoun what do you hope to get from this?” Keevan asked, his expression annoyed.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that?” Weyoun answered with a question of his own.

“You know very well what I mean. The war is over and The Dominion is gone so can we please stop going about like nothing has changed? I am very tired of pretending as if we are in the same place as we were before.” Keevan glared at him.

Weyoun narrowed his eyes, “I am very well aware of that. And I am TIRED of you just going about as if nothing happened. As if we can just go on as though what happened didn’t matter, as if we aren’t different. YOU are the one who is stuck in the past Keevan, not me.” Weyoun could feel his voice raising with his anger.

“Don’t assume what I am feeling Weyoun.” Keevan hopped down to stand in front of him. Weyoun stood so they were on equal footing, “You don’t know a thing about me and I have no interest in telling you anything.” Keevan took a step to the side and Weyoun mirrored his movements, “Our relationship was over with the war. I do not want to continue doing the kind of things we did under The Dominion.” Another step, they were circling each other, anger bubbling inside of Weyoun, “I am done being held down by the binds the Founders put on us. Just because YOU get some sort of fetishistic pleasure out of it doesn’t mean I do and I want no part of it.” 

The rage in Weyoun was rising with each step they took. But Keevan wasn’t done talking, “Just because you liked and wanted whatever sick games you were playing with Dukat doesn’t mean I have to sit here, near you, listening to you, knowing full well you liked it. You disgust me Weyoun and just because the bindings of The Dominion are gone doesn’t make you any more worth my respect.” That had the rage inside of Weyoun boil over.

He blinked.

He was staring at the ceiling. Weyoun blinked again. Still a blindingly white ceiling. How he hated this place. He was lying on a bed, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness he realized there was a curtain on a rail above him. The sheet and pillow under him felt damp with sweat. Grimacing he sat up, his right arm was stopped in it’s assent at the wrist. A metal on metal clink it drew his eyes. He was handcuffed to what he now saw was a medical bed. Looking down he was wearing a white gown, did this place not realize there were colors? It made his already pale skin look even more off putting. A grunt drew his attention to his right. Sitting up he could see the shape of someone behind the curtain in the bed next to him. He sighed unsure of how he got here or what exactly had happened. The only thing he really knew was the light throbbing behind his eyes and a vague sense of unease. His sigh must have drew the attention of whoever was in the next bed because they pulled back their curtain. For some reason Weyoun was worried, but only because he didn’t really feel anything else as he locked eyes with Damar.

Damar huffed, “So you’re here.” He let go of the curtain, “Seems like every Vorta in the galaxy is here so why am I surprised to see you?”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you either Damar.” Looking him over he could see the giant band of the med bed was over him, signaling he had gone through surgery or some other major procedure, “Why are you in here?” He asked curious.

Damar sighed, “One of my organs wasn’t reacting right so I had to go into surgery. Wouldn’t have caught it if it wasn’t for the required in-depth physical for the trial. Cardassian trails are so much simpler.” What?

“You’re going to trial?” Weyoun managed to keep his disbelief out of his voice.

“Yep in two weeks.” He answered as if this wasn’t major news, “I’ll just be glad to have this done and finally move on. The Federation has always been soft I don’t expect anything too bad from them. I might even get to see my wife and kid again.” Damar sounded oddly hopeful.

It was baffling to Weyoun. Damar hadn’t assisted the Federation, he had been fighting them at the end. Why was HE getting an answer for his future before him? It wasn’t fair. Isn’t that what the Federation always touts on and on about? Being fair, giving everyone a chance, being on ‘the right side’. Well Why than when Weyoun, Keevan and every other Vorta chooses ‘the right side’ they have to sit in here and rot but fucking DAMAR gets out of here first? The throbbing behind his eyes was getting worse.

“How fortunate for you.” The bitterness was heavy in his voice.

Damar huffed at him, “Don’t blame me because you backed the wrong side again.” Of course Damar would see it that way.

As if Weyoun really had a choice in the matter. As if Weyoun could have just ‘decided’ to be part of The Dominion again at any moment and hadn’t been kicked out of the Founders’ grace. As if he could just ‘choose’ to not be Dukat’s property at any time if he had ‘just behaved enough’. It reminded him of his argument with Keevan...the one he couldn’t remember how he got here from there. Weyoun took a step towards him, as if being pulled to him. It was almost reassuring, Damar’s hatred of him. Good old reliable Damar, so very set in his ways.

What was this feeling? Nostalgia? Was that what this was? Weyoun rarely lived long enough for such things. Even his longest running lives had been the most repetitive ones. There was rarely any previous view of life to miss. But Damar’s hatred was making him feel something inside. A longing, one he felt such heavy shame for having. Because he remembers how comfortable being under Damar’s hatred is and right now Weyoun is really missing it. 

He took another step towards him, “I’m glad to see your opinion of me hasn’t changed.” His tone neutral despite the deep desire to push Damar, get him into an argument. That longing growing stronger, rising up in him.

Damar chuckled at what he said, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you Weyoun.” He shook his head, “You always manage to surprise me.” Something about that almost respect in his voice had that longing overwhelm him.

It’s slow building suddenly bursting into an all consuming need, “Damar hold me.” His voice came out cracked and soft.

Damar gave him a confused expression at his emotional shift, “What?”

Weyoun took another step which should have been stopped by the cuffs. The bed should have kept him from getting any closer. Yet he felt no tug on his wrist. The flash of blue behind his eyelids gone as quickly as his blink. He was just walking to Damar. The expression on Damar’s face warped into one of concern.

“Weyoun?” He asked that with his hands up, as if trying to sooth him, like some kind of animal.

“Damar please?” He begged, hands grabbing the side of Damar’s bed.

“Weyoun, you need to calm down.” The way he was talking confused Weyoun.

Why did he sound so worried? Damar could easily snap his neck. Weyoun wasn’t a threat to him yet he was talking to him like he was. His confusion stopped his body from moving forward any further. A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind had him turning. A nurse was there but standing oddly. Looking behind him he definitely didn’t remember his bed being this close to Damar’s. He had somehow managed to drag that whole thing over two meters without noticing or making any noise, strange. The throbbing behind his eyes grew worse. He closed his eyes to shield them from the brightness of all the white around him. The nurse directed him to lay back down before injecting him with a hypospray. Whatever was in it had him out before he even considered opening his eyes again.

Weyoun felt terrible. Damar was gone when he next opened his eyes, but he was only able to keep them open for a few minutes. He was in and out of sleep for the next few days. It was only when he woke up, finally able to stay awake for more than an hour did he manage to catch a nurse to ask them what was going on. Apparently he was under observation after he attacked Keevan and now was suffering some sort of exhaustion they couldn’t identify. However that was all they seemed willing to tell him.

He remembered being furious with Keevan but not attacking him. Weyoun never thought that his anger could get that bad. The most he’s ever done was prod at people...well till Dukat at least. The one fight that ended up as violent sex came to mind. It made him feel gross inside to think that he’d just assault Keevan over such an argument. The medical officer in charge released him to return to his cell when he was able to stay awake for the rest of the day. When he asked her what was wrong with him she just side-stepped the question. Typical, Vulcan’s rarely lie They’d much rather just outright avoid answered what you asked than have to tell a direct lie. Weyoun kept the throbbing of his head to himself. If she wasn’t gonna be honest with him there was no reason for him to be honest with her.

The walk back to his cell was an anxious one. Unsure of how Keevan would respond. Before he’d been handed over to Dukat he’d only met Keevan a few times and they never had even spoken to each other before. So Weyoun didn’t have a good way to gauge how Keevan would act when he walked in, handcuffs taken off, door sliding closed and locked behind him. What he decided to do was nothing. He didn’t even acknowledge him. That seemed worse somehow. Weyoun just went and sat in his bunk, unable to decide what to do with himself. The silence that was between them felt heavy. 

“Keevan..”

“Do not speak to me Weyoun.” Keevan interrupted him before he could apologize, “I am angry with you and do not want to hear anything out of your mouth. When I am less angry I will talk to you.” Was his final say on the matter.

Weyoun closed his mouth and kept it that way for the rest of the day. Times like these he really wonders if him and Keevan are the same species because he just doesn’t understand him at all. But he respected his wishes and kept quiet. The night cycle seemed to take a long time to reach them. After so much sleep Weyoun was surprised he found himself so tired. He drifted into sleep easily enough.

Weyoun rarely had dreams, even less so with nightmares. But he was having one right now. Dukat was on top of him, crushing him. Gripping his face with such a painful hold, he whined. Why did his voice sound so off? It jolted him a bit. Dukat was saying something but he sounded muffled, like he was speaking to him through a wall but the pain in his face made it clear he was right on top of him. Weyoun tried to move but his body felt heavy, strange, like he was still in the early stage of entering a new body. Dukat leaned down and bit his bottom lip. Weyoun cried out, again his voice sounded wrong. Which caused another jolt through him. It made him realize he was asleep and just having a nightmare. Slowly gaining control of his actual body he opened his eyes. Terror seized him because his eyes were open but Dukat was still there. On top of him, hurting him. His skin seemed to finally be able to register touch as the shaking of the bunk bed reached him. This wasn’t a nightmare.

Weyoun managed to roll out of his bed, the apparition of Dukat he could still see and feel. But the more he looked the easier it was to see the real world behind it. Looking at the top bunk Keevan’s hand was gripping the bed so tightly, knuckles so white it made his hand look fake. Climbing up it Weyoun realized Keevan was hovering, his grip on the bed the only thing keeping him held down. It dawned on him, he was seeing one of Keevan’s memories. 

“Keevan?” He called to him.

He didn’t seem to hear him. Reaching to touch him the tips of his fingers touched the back of his hand. Weyoun felt an electric pain burst up his arm, felt a force push him up than blackness. When he opened his eyes it was that white ceiling, curtain above no longer drawn around him. The sound of medical machines reaching him first.

“You’re awake.” Weyoun froze at that voice.

THAT VOICE.

WHY?!

OF ALL THE VOICES WHY?!!!

“I’d wondered what had happened.” Dukat was talking like this was all very normal.

Turning his head he didn’t look normal. Like Weyoun he was cuffed to the bed. His blue eyes staring at him. Finding his own, commanding his own. He looked like he was recovering from a fight, healing bruises on his face. Good he hoped they hurt. Who the hell put him and Dukat next to each other? Why would they do this?

“I’ve missed you Weyoun. It’s been a while.” Dukat had a longing to his voice.

A longing that tugged at Weyoun. Why? WHY? After months of being in a prison did he have to see his old jailer? Why after working so hard to escape did his voice call to him? It wasn’t fair, this was supposed to be over. He was supposed to be done with this. 

Weyoun swallowed, “What happened to you?” He asked to distract himself from his thoughts.

Dukat sighed, “Roommate troubles.” Dukat looked down at himself, Weyoun couldn’t see any other obvious wounds, “When you spend so much time with just one person it tends to make you testy.” YA THINK?!

Weyoun had so many emotions running in him right now. Anger and outrage were the biggest ones. He tried to hold onto and focus on those ones. If he just focused on them then he wouldn’t feel those other ones. The ones he didn’t want but were still there. That despite everything he had missed Dukat. Memories of other bruises on Dukat’s face came to mind. Ones that he healed and was then wrapped in those arms. That son of a bitch!

“You don’t look worse off.” Dukat commented, “Why are you in here?” He asked.

“Roommate troubles.” Was all Weyoun was willing to say on the matter.

Dukat chuckled, “Good to see you haven’t lost any of your snark.” Then he stood up. 

Weyoun had forgotten how much taller Dukat was than him. Dukat stepped towards him, that longing that he had just felt for Dukat evaporated. No longer just wishful thinking now it seemed Dukat wanted to collect. The cuffs not letting Dukat walk farther than a single step. Dukat reached for him with his long arms. Frozen Weyoun just watched the descent of that hand.

“Did you miss me Weyoun?” Weyoun wasn’t responding, he refused to.

Then contact, Dukat’s fingers touching the back of Weyoun’s hand. With a blink Weyoun was confused. He was still lying down on a medical bed. But the ceiling looked different and Dukat wasn’t there. When he tried to sit up he realized he couldn’t. Looking down he saw that he was strapped down. Did Dukat do this to him? Someone was running towards him. Was it to stop the yelling? It was so loud. But they stopped in front of his bed. Weyoun realized he was the one screaming. The nurse hit him with a hypospray. Whatever was in it had darkness surrounding his vision and then had him slipping back into blackness.

End of Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Dr. Th’rohriss’s perspective

Dr. Th’rohriss was furious. They stormed through the prison heading straight for medical. Their feet pounding loudly on the smooth, shiny white tile. They found Lieutenant T’ma in her office going over some paperwork.

“WHAT THE HELL T’MA?” Th’rohriss was unable to avoid raising their voice.

“Dr. Th’rohriss I do not know what you are referring to.” She said setting the padd in front of her on top of a stack of padds.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. I do not care for your constant refusal to keep me updated about my patients.” They had their arms crossed over their chest, antenna rotating faster, indicating their agitation. 

“If you are asking about Weyoun informing you wasn’t considered worth giving you access to classified information by the Admirals.” She stated as if this answer was supposed to settle them.

“He has been in and out of here without going to his sessions for over a week and I’ve only just learned that he has had contact with both Damar AND Dukat while here.” They shifted, their hands moving to their hips to do something with the angry energy in them, “Now WHY would Weyoun end up in a bed next to Damar and later Dukat in this mostly empty clinic?”

She sighed, “Like I said it is classified, I am not at liberty to tell you. Only that no harm was intended..”

“NO HARM WAS INTENDED?!” Th’rohriss interupted her, “You just placed a man who’s been horrendously abused next to a man who ignored and participated in his torment and then to top it all off place him next to his abuser, a man who had him convinced he was an object. Out of all the things I expected you to lie to me outright about that is one I didn’t think you’d be so low as to do T’ma.” She stood sharply at that, “We may not be friends Lieutenant but I had previously respected that you were a good doctor but clearly the Hippocratic Oath isn’t something you take seriously.” She looked like she was about to throttle them.

T’ma took in a deep breath, “It was not my decision to make Th’rohriss. If it was it would not have been made. However I cannot just ignore the orders the Admirals have given.” Clearly their comment had affected her.

“So what? Is the Federation like Cardassian Central Command now where we can just brush aside blatant abuse of power as ‘following orders’?” They couldn’t keep the snark out of their voice.

“This is above my head,” She reiterated, “This operation is considered for the good of all Federation planets.” 

“If it’s so important to ignore the rights of our prisoners of war the very least you can do is tell me what you are doing?” They stood their ground, refusing to just let this continue.

She stared at them for several moments. To Th’rohriss she looked to be frozen but then she moved, having made a decision.

“Maybe I have been too eager to find solace in the ethics of the chain of command. If it is so blatantly in conflict with my patients best interests that you are this determined to stop it than my doubts about the reasoning for this are clearly more than just my own,” She walked around her desk, “Follow me and I’ll show you what I have access to.”

T’ma lead them to a locked door. Unlocking it they followed her inside. Not much was noticeable other than the walls were covered with different Vorta brain scans. She went and stood next to a row. Approaching it Th’rohriss could see it was labeled ‘Weyoun’.

T’ma spoke, “I have not been informed exactly why we are monitoring their brains but I think looking at them even as a laymen you can see the pattern.” Each scan was marked with a date.

The ones for the first month showed a slowly spreading web within the brain. The one marked for the date that Weyoun assaulted Keevan showed that web as having spread much farther, his brain lit up with activity. The one labeled the next day looked less bright. The one labeled as the morning Weyoun returned to his cell with Keevan that light had returned to it’s more regular activity levels, but it seemed those pathways were still there, just dormant. The one from that same night looked almost as bright as the one where he assaulted Keevan. But the most recent one, the one where he had attacked Dukat. There was so much light you wouldn’t think it was a brain scan if it wasn’t next to the others.

“What is it?” Th’rohriss asked.

She pointed at the scans, “You see these neural pathways and how they’re expanding? Look at Keevan’s scans here.” She pointed to the scans right next to Weyoun’s.

“They aren’t as far along.” Th’rohriss noticed.

That light was clearly the same sort of pathway. Except in Keevan it seemed to be taking a slightly different but similar path. It also wasn’t nearly as extended as Weyoun’s was...yet. The day Weyoun assaulted Keevan showed a spike in this pathway and the night he had put Weyoun in here looked very similar to the scan of Weyoun’s when he had attacked him.

“I have personally not witnessed what exactly is happening while this is going on. However one of my nurses came in when Weyoun and Damar were alone and said it looked like Weyoun’s medical bed was hovering and following him.” She started, “I can say that I have not been told what exactly they are studying for, only that I have seen similar pathways in other scans.” She went to a drawer and pulled out some scans, “These are scans of the brains of Vulcan who have studied meditation methods to expand their telekinesis and other such skills.” They looked from these scans to the ones on the wall.

“The Vorta’s pathways are much farther along than any of these.” They said.

T’ma pointed at the one they were holding in their right hand, “This man has been honing his skills for seventy years and his brain scans don’t show even half the development of these pathways as Weyoun.” 

Realization dawned on them, “Weyoun 7 hasn’t even been alive six months yet!” 

She nodded, “Exactly and it seems stress and trauma triggers it’s growth.”

“Wait but why does Starfleet want to exasperate this? At this rate his brain is gonna be swallowed by this. Who knows what kind of state he’ll be in if this keeps spreading and how powerful his powers will become?” They asked, wondering allowed.

“That I do not know.” T’ma said, “However I am beginning to believe that whatever the reason it is not worth torturing our prisoners for, especially ones who won us the war.” 

“We can’t just let this go on.” Th’rohriss said, determination clear in their voice.

T’ma gave the slightest smirk, “And I know just who to contact about it.”

End Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Weyoun felt horrendous. The nurse had given him a pain killer but it didn’t seem to be helping. He laid with a pillow over his face to block out the blinding white of his surroundings. The sound of the life support system felt so loud. Like each turn would feel like a hammer was being smashed against his forehead. Soft squeaks let him know the nurse was back.

“Weyoun?” The nurse called.

“Huh?” He answered refusing to move the pillow.

“You are wanted as a witness.” What? “The Lieutenant has agreed to let you have something a bit stronger to make this more tolerable for you.” He barely registered the hypospray.

A witness for who? Was it for Damar’s trial? That was the only one he could think of that was coming up. Had it already been two weeks since he saw Damar? It felt like it had only been three days ago. Whatever was in the hypospray helped. It no longer felt like his brain was trying burst out of his skull like a popped kernel. Sitting up he sat the pillow back down. A guard came in only a minute later to move the handcuff from the bed to his other wrist.

Apparently the trial was taking place in the prison. Not what Weyoun had expected from the Federation but it seemed efficient for high profile prisoners. The court rooms were on a completely different level than the rest of the prison. It became clear to Weyoun as they stepped out of the lift that the prison itself was at the center of the facility. Because now he was looking out a window, he hadn’t seen the stars in months. It made him realize how much he missed those same set of stars outside of Terok...well DS9. Maybe it was because he was almost entirely pain free for the first time in almost a week but his mind wasn’t running as quickly. Or else it wouldn’t have stalled when they turned down a hall and he saw Ziyal sitting on a bench, waiting as another witness. She smiled at him, he didn’t smile back his mind having gone from dead engines to warp in a fraction of a second.

“Hello Weyoun it’s been a while.” She sounded pleasant, happy to see him at least.

“Yes it has.” The guard sat him on the bench across the door from her, Weyoun’s eyes were trained on his cuffed hands.

Whose trial was this?

“Today should hopefully be the last day. I’ll be glad when all of this is over.” Ziyal was saying, “Kira has been really helping me with all this.” Weyoun still wasn’t looking at her, “You know I never got to thank you?” She said.

Now he turned to look at her. 

Whose trial was THIS?

“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive him or anything like that. But I’d like to hope he can change you know? And if you hadn’t turned over the Dominion when you did than who knows if he’d even be alive today.” She sounded so chipper.

WHOSE trial was this?!

A Cardassian stepped out of the double doors. Weyoun whipped his head around to stare into the courtroom. Whose trail was this? He couldn’t tell, each row was full. Blocking the front. Cardassian and Federation officials obvious from their uniforms. But no clear sign has to WHOSE TRIAL THIS WAS. 

The man turned to Ziyal, “You’re up.” He told her.

She smiled at Weyoun, “I’ll try and figure out how to talk to you later Weyoun. Wish me luck.”

They walked inside. Leaving Weyoun alone with the guard and his thoughts. His thoughts that were racing, running as fast as possible. The pain that had ebbed from the medication was blooming back. Like nails being stabbed into the back of his eyes. His breathing was picking up. Panic, that’s what he was doing and what he needed to stop that RIGHT NOW. This was not the place to have a panic attack. This was not the TIME to have a panic attack. He doesn’t know how long it took, only that it felt like years till the doors opened again. A Federation lawyer stood there now.

She sighed at seeing him, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to prep you beforehand with your health and all..” Her words ran off like she wasn’t sure what else to say.

The guard grabbed him by the arm and made Weyoun stand, then walk. His feet moving, his body following them. But his mind, that stayed outside those doors. It was like he was watching himself walk down that walkway, towards the front of the courtroom. Suddenly he was launched back into his body. The pain of it had his body throbbing, what had pulled him back was the familiar hair. That scale patterning, the length of neck, turning towards him, an eye finding him, a smirk. That blue flash no longer small. It was blinding, there was screaming and so much pain, than it was over.

He was lying down. The beep of the med bed letting him know he was still alive. Weyoun’s skin felt clammy. The sheets cold and wet from how much he had sweated. He groaned out, the lack of ability to move his body alarming him more than the pain. They had strapped him down again. At his groan a blue hand came forward and grabbed his hand.

“Weyoun? Can you hear me?” That could only be Dr. Th’rohriss.

He huffed, not in the mood to deal with them.

“Well I’m going to take that huff as a yes.” They said letting his hand go, “Are you able to talk?” They asked.

“What about?” His voice was scratchy like he hadn’t drank water all day.

Weyoun turned his head to look at them. They were sitting in a chair they had gotten from somewhere next to him. At least that wasn’t also white. It was a metal and black chair.

“Well do you remember what happened?” They asked.

“I remember walking into the courtroom.” He answered.

“And then?” They questioned.

“Then I saw Dukat….I was in pain and now I’m here.” Which was the truth.

He felt too tired and weak to lie about something when he had no reason to at the moment. 

“I see.” They said, their tone non-committal, “Well I came to tell you that I wasn’t aware of any of this.” As if Weyoun cared about their involvement, it’s not like they were friends, “However I managed to get into contact with some people who can help you. They are already here talking with the Admirals in charge of this little experiment.” Now that they mentioned it Weyoun noticed the muffled sound of a deep voice expressing their opinions loudly several doors down.

“How long was I out?” He asked, not wanting to speculate about what was being said about him or his future several rooms away.

“You’ve been out for two days.” Th’rohriss started, “Do you want to know what happened at the trial?” Their voice was softer now.

“Why? Will it make a difference in what’s going to happen next if I know?” Weyoun couldn’t hide the bitterness from his voice.

Th’rohriss made that sound that they probably didn’t think Weyoun could hear. The one that meant they were holding in a sigh.

“Technically no but I thought you might like to know.” 

He shook his head, “Not now.” Weyoun closed his eyes. 

He was so tired. Whatever was being talked about down the hall was done. Because now there were footsteps approaching. The door to the clinic slide open. Weyoun couldn’t see it but he could hear it so easily he might as well be able to see them. There were roughly seven pairs of feet coming his way. Th’rohriss stood as they arrived but Sisko held up his hand to stop them from saying anything. Captain Sisko looked down at him and sighed. Bu it wasn’t Sisko that had his eyes widening. It was the three Jem’Hadar standing behind him.

“Weyoun. You and every Vorta in this facility are being released to the Jem’Hadar. These experiments are over and neither you or any other Vorta will have to have contact with the Federation unless you choose to do so yourselves.” Sisko paused, “I would also like to make it clear that if I had been made aware of what the Admirals were going to do I would never have allowed the Vorta into Federation custody.” Sisko was pulling the straps off of Weyoun, their imprint faint on his skin, “I am personally disgusted with the actions of Starfleet towards your people. I am personally taking this to the top to ensure this never happens again.” Straps removed Sisko held out his hand for him.

Weyoun put his hand on the end of the bed to balance him as he stood. His knees felt weaker than he remembered. One of the Jem’Hadar stepped forward but didn’t do anything further.

“Vorta.” He addressed him.

“First.” Weyoun responded.

“All will be known shortly. But now we are leaving.” The first said stepping back to allow Weyoun to walk on his own.

But his knees just didn’t seem to want to hold him up, “Could you…” He couldn’t get himself to ask it.

Whether pride or shame it didn’t really matter. Whatever it was it felt terrible. But the first held out his arm for Weyoun to take without comment. He lead him down the halls and up the lift. On the main level they turned, the courtroom that he had been in had tape over the blown out doors. Splintered metal and plastic sticking out of the walls. Did he do that? Unlike before the halls were full. Full of Jem’Hadar and Vorta. They were all going the same direction. Funneling towards the docking bay. Once there he could just make out Keevan boarding a ship before a voice called him.

“Weyoun you’re alright.” Turning it was Ziyal.

“As alright as could be expected.” Was his response.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I can’t believe what you were going through. If I had known...well I wouldn’t have let you go in there that’s for sure.” She said it like she meant it.

“I appreciate that.” A question was on the end of his tongue.

But he couldn’t get himself to ask it. It was a selfish question, and one that Ziyal was the last person he wanted to answer it. No matter he was likely to find out shortly.

“I do hope this will help? If you ever need to talk I won’t be too hard to find.” She seemed to care so much.

He supposed he would be the only other person she knows who had to deal with her father. Though thankfully not in the same way. Maybe he would take her up on it? But not now, and not soon.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He said before she smiled and turned to go onto the Defiant.

Weyoun saw Kira standing at the door. Their eyes locked and she nodded at him. He did the same.

“This is where we part ways.” Sisko started, “The Jem’Hadar Alliance are taking temporary custody of you for now. I’ll just be one wormhole trip away if there is any need of me or the Federation.” Sisko said.

“Certain you’ll stay with the Federation than?” Where had that come from? The throbbing in his skull didn’t seem to stop his cutting remarks at all.

Sisko gave an amused huff, “I plan to see this cover up full exposed all while wearing this uniform. After that? Who knows.” Sisko answered.

“Good luck with that Captain.” Weyoun’s voice heavy with dryness and apathy.

Sisko told him goodbye and turned to the Defiant parked not too far away. The first, Weyoun still hadn’t caught his name lead him into one of the Jem’Hadar ships. What he noticed right away was that there were seats. Newly installed, and made the small space look cluttered. But it made it clear the Jem’Hadar had already been working on changing things, even in as little as two months. Weyoun was thankful for the chair. The ship had so many other Vorta inside. All of them wearing the white prison uniforms. He locked eyes with Keevan from across the bridge. Keevan looked away first. Weyoun leaned back, his head resting on the wall. Out of all the fates he’d expected and hoped for. Being at the mercy of the Jem’Hadar was one that even Weyoun 5 would have been terrified of. But now...he was so relieved. Tired of trying to get those who didn’t know to understand. Tired of feeling so alien and wrong. The Jem’Hadar did not like the Vorta and for good reason, but at least they understood them.

End of Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

The time it took for them to warp to and through the wormhole it seemed oddly fast in comparison to how every moment in prison felt. The first who had left him at his seat was commanding his crew. The Vorta basically just ignored, not that any of them were doing anything. Weyoun could see two that looked to have just been dropped on the floor and seemed to have no desire to get up or move at all. This is probably the most(conscious) Vorta he’s ever been in a room with. He wasn’t counting waking up at the facility since there were hundreds of tubes there. While the Jem’Hadar had installed chairs adding windows would be a much more drastic change, the first was on the headset. Meaning neither Weyoun or any other Vorta could see where they were going. Strangely Weyoun wasn’t bothered by this.

Since….well since he had woken up in this body this is the first time he’s felt calm, assured with his future. The twenty Vorta scattered about the bridge were just as silent as he was. Seemed no one was feeling talkative. What would they even talk about? No one even asked where they were being taken. They just sat in silence. Food was passed out at some point. So however long they were on the ship was enough for at least a meal. Weyoun was a little surprised the Jem’Hadar remembered since they didn’t have to eat. But looking them over Weyoun noticed a couple of them were without the tubes for distributing the white in their system. The attachment that it would hook up to was still there but not the tube. It also didn’t get past Weyoun that the ones who didn’t have the tube had plates of food for themselves. He would find this development interesting if his head wasn’t throbbing so much. At least Jem’Hadar ships weren’t a stark white. If he never had to go into an all white space again it would be too soon.

Weyoun saw several Vorta get up and leave. The Jem’Hadar didn’t stop them or even ask them where they were going. Just went about their business. The Vorta leaving made Weyoun realize how tired he had gotten. There were a few quarters on Jem’Hadar ships but no more than three. One for the head Vorta and two others in case of guests. Weyoun was tempted to go and find a bed but seeing how many people were leaving he did not want to have to share one. So instead he laid his head down on the unlit console in front of him to close his eyes. He was shook awake some time later. The pain in his neck and shoulders made him regret sleeping where he did. Turning to the Jem’Hadar he noticed how all the Vorta were gone.

“We are here.” Weyoun believed he was either third or fourth?

Firsts were easy to spot, since the others always followed his lead. It was the rest of the unit that are hard to identify. The one good thing about his terrible sleep was that he had the strength to stand and walk on his own. The Jem’Hadar lead him out of the ship, onto Kurill Prime, his homeworld. For some reason of all the places he had expected the Jem’Hadar to take them, home was not it. Kurill was a planet that didn’t get a lot of light. Most parts of the planet received less than five hours of light a day. There weren’t even luminescent plants. In the middle of the yearly cycle some places get closer to eight and later in the year places can get less than an hour of ‘light’. Weyouns have spent a grand total of less than six hours on his world while conscious. 

The Jem’Hadar continued to walk, Weyoun followed. The Vorta homeworld wasn’t much to look at. Since their base species were small apes that at most had managed to use tools to hollow out trees there wasn’t much of the Vorta before the Founders. A geneticist had told him that the hardest trait to boast in Vorta was their vision. Their very planet didn’t want them to depend on their vision but Founders had willed it so. And after the Founders had molded them there wasn’t much use for their home planet. Mainly it was just where their bodies were built, cloned and stored. There had been an attempt to make their home planet a sort of place to take possible dignitaries to court them into The Dominion. However that production was ceased when the Jem’Hadar were perfected. Why spend time wining and dining when just the threat of their forces could get most to aqueous to The Dominion’s demands. He was being led to one of the few buildings here, a cloning facility. Inside the place was packed with Vorta. Weyoun’s eyes traced the walls, seeing the names of lines above the dispensary of clones for said line. There were several units worth of Jem’Hadar here. Weyoun always had a hard time understanding what the Jem’Hadar were thinking. They weren’t a very expressive people.

The first that had helped Weyoun stood on an abandoned desk, “Vorta I am first of this operation Katad’ram,” He started, projecting his voice far so all could hear him, “For the near future the Jem’Hadar Alliance will be assisting with your transition to post Dominion life. We ourselves have not yet adjusted so it will be hard. Captain Sisko had given us replicators as a peace offering. Food will not be an issue.” 

His eyes scanned the room of Vorta, his expression unreadable to Weyoun, “The industrial sized ones will be used to build more dwellings since the facilities are not designed to house so many.” He gestured to his brethren, “Myself and several of my unit were chosen by the Alliance to assist you due to our immunity to the white addiction. However not all of us are without it and past grudges are still very strong for many of us. I am saying this will not be easy. But with some assistance from Sisko we have been given some possibilities as to how to go about helping you. Despite our past the Jem’Hadar Alliance does not want ill will towards the Vorta. We simply desire to get you on your feet so we can go about our own way.” That seemed to be the end of his speech.

For several long, awkward moments no one else spoke. Weyoun was unsure if the first had expected a response or not, either way he didn’t get down from the top of the desk. From his position at the back of the room he saw a head step forward.

He quickly recognized the voice of Kilana, “What do you intend to do with us for this so called transition?” Her voice easy for Weyoun to hear from where he was standing, “How can we trust that you will do as you say?”

The first noticeably sighed, “Because we have said it. Not all of us are prone to lying about our intent.” It seemed to not take long for old resentments to rear up.

“You expect us to take you at your word? We took the Federation at their word and see what happened? Your people have killed ours many times in the past why should we assume now that you have all the power that you won’t enact revenge?”

Weyoun could see that the first now had an expression. One that looked like exasperation.

“Just because you would do that to us if the situation was reversed does not mean we would stoop so low as to do so.” The anger clear in his voice, “And as you should remember the Vorta assisted in the rebellion. We swore then that the Jem’Hadar would not harm any Vorta who would join it and we stand by that. The Dominion may be gone, us Jem’Hadar do want to become different, ourselves. But we still value our word and we have no intention to break it in the future.” 

“Very well,” Kilana responded, seemingly settled.

There was something reassuring about that. The fact that while the Jem’Hadar desired to change that they would not entirely abandon who they are now. It helped sooth an anxiety that Weyoun hadn’t realized he had been harboring. Something he’d grown very exhausted with very quickly in prison was the Federation’s desire to push him(at least) to become so different. To just abandon so much of who he was because The Dominion was gone. There was no Weyoun without The Dominion till he awoke in this body. And looking around he could see several Vorta who looked to have not taken losing their entire purpose for living well. None of the other Vorta said anything else.

“Several buildings will be finished by tomorrow. Once they are done we can begin to go over what you wish to do as a people.” Weyoun could hear a low sound, one so low that if he wasn’t Vorta he wouldn’t be able to hear it, it was a groan of disgust, “For now do as you please. These facilities are still functional all that we ask is that you do not awaken anymore Vorta. The supplies we have been given will not be sufficient for every body on site. If you have anymore questions or concerns direct them to me or my second Dasu’venet.” He gestured to the one standing next to him.

Now he climbed down from the desk. For several minutes it seemed the Vorta didn’t know what to do with themselves. In prison all they were able to do was wait. Here at a home many of them have barely seen they were given free reign for the first time in their lives. It made Weyoun at first feel immediately suspicious. Like it was a trap, but he quickly brushed that instinct aside. He doubted the first would have lied. If they had intended harm to the Vorta they could have easily eliminated all of them by ejecting them out into space. And despite all the Jem’Hadar were forced to do in the past. Cruelty is something he had never seen them do without being ordered to. No, cruelty was a Vorta’s forte. It was why Weyoun’s own voice had joined that collective groan. The very idea of giving other Vorta control over his life made him shudder. He’d rather they be under the Jem’Hadar’s thumb than for him to be under someone like him. Someone petty, weak, cruel and duplicitous. Knowing he wasn’t alone in disliking this idea did reassure him. It shouldn’t take long to prove that they were incapable of being trusted with power over themselves. If anyone would know how horrible working under a Vorta is it would be the Jem’Hadar. Most likely this was something Sisko had recommended no doubt. It sounded very Federation, at least to Weyoun. 

Looking around the room a thought popped in his head. He was at the cloning facility. Which is where all memories of clones were stored. He could probably find Weyoun’s 6 memory in here. Having something to do he began moving. It was clear none of the other Vorta had expected his movement as they gave him cross looks as he pushed past them when they refused to budge. Making it to the hall he began looking through rooms. Apparently his suddenly spurred actions had drawn the curiosity of one of the Jem’Hadar. He didn’t say anything simply followed him as he searched the facility. 

“What are you looking for?” The Jem’Hadar asked as he walked into his fourth room.

Looking over at him Weyoun noticed he was without the white tube, “I am searching for memory files.” He answered, “I am Weyoun by the way.”

“I know who you are.” The Jem’Hadar stated, “I am Ozidi’nuk, fourth. I know which room you are searching.” The fourth then turned around and walked out.

Weyoun followed, eager to get there. Ozidi’nuk lead him straight there. It looked as unimpressive on the outside as any other room. Like most Dominion facilities rooms weren’t labeled, the only people who needed to know where things were are the Vorta and they were expected to memorize and spend their whole life there. Adding signs was a considered a waste of time and resources. Going inside the hum from the computers was low and reassuring. It reminded him of his geneticist days. He hadn’t worked on Vorta though, he had been working on solving a fertility issue with one of The Dominion planets. Going to the computer he searched for his file. It wasn’t hard to find, they rarely reused line names. Weyoun sighed when the memories were locked behind a classified passcode.

“Does your first have the codes for this facility?” Weyoun asked Ozidi’nuk.

“He should.” The fourth answered, “Do you want them right away?” 

“Yes.” Weyoun said sitting down at the stool. 

Ozidi’nuk left to assumedably get the code. Those missing memories locked behind a string of numbers. Weyoun 6 himself if he thought about it. For once Weyoun 7 would get some real answers. Ozidi’nuk came back in only a few minutes but to Weyoun the sound of his feet coming down the hall seemed long, stretched. He entered the passcode and he was let in. The files were there, right under his fingertips. He formatted the learner that was already hooked up to the machine before loading Weyoun 6’s memories onto it. Weyoun had not desire to accidentally end up with another Vorta’s memories or skills. It didn’t take as long as Weyoun thought it should. All of Weyoun 6’s existence fit within five minutes of download time. He supposed he had only been alive for a single week. Certainly the shortest life he’s ever had. For a few minutes he just stared at the device. Prepping himself, unsure if he would like what he would see in these memories. Or if he would come out different with them. Once ready he picked it up and placed it on his head and closed his eyes.

End of Chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more recent tags of rape/non-con are for this chapter only *** around those paragraphs and the death scene because it is rather upsetting.
> 
> Me: Okay this sequel is about healing from trauma and learning to respect yourself so I don't wanna make it too dark
> 
> Me writing this flashback chapter: 🙃

He focused on those memories, tried to stay in them like he had done in the past. Going through them as though he was reliving them. Weyoun 6’s awakening was as common as every previous Weyoun. A scientist helped him out of his tube and helped him adjust to his new body. Within the hour he was on a ship and sent through the wormhole. Memories of Weyoun 5 fresh and hot behind his retina. His death replaying on loop. Those seconds of suffocation and the even worse moments after but prior to full death where it was nothing but pain and blackness kept repeating. He was certain Damar had done it, he had looked back and smiled as he had walked out when he was called away at the last minute. There was no way it wasn’t intentional. The wormhole now open it didn’t take them long to reach Terok Nor. Weyoun wasn’t given the details of how the Cardassians had managed to keep hold of the station but he was sure Dukat would happily regale him with it as soon as he boarded. He was correct in this assumption. Gul Dukat was waiting for him at the docking bay.

“Weyoun good to have you back. You are technically a different person is that correct?” Dukat asked.

He was being very polite, talking to him like he did when he met someone new he wanted to impress. It was odd to Weyoun considering their past relationship. But if he was assuming that this Weyoun was entirely different that would make sense.

Weyoun 6 smiled, “Not exactly.” He began to explain, “I am technically a different Weyoun but my memories are the same which in many ways makes me the same person. Our individual lives don’t vary as much as one would expect.” It was what they were programmed to say.

Whether Weyoun 6 believed it didn’t matter. He had Weyoun 5’s and all previous versions memories, which meant he took on the responsibility of those Weyoun’s as well as his current self. Weyoun 7 reflecting on these thoughts wasn’t sure if he felt more bothered that Weyoun 6 so far didn’t feel different than any other Weyoun or not? It was in one way reassuring but in another not, this Weyoun had caused him so much pain and he couldn’t immediately tell what was defective about him, did that make him defective too?

“I see,” Dukat smiled down at him, he placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him, “I’m glad I don’t have to cover Terok Nor all over again with you.” They’d stopped outside the briefing room, “Or have to rebuild the rapport we had built in the past.” Dukat made an aborted motion.

Like he was going to touch him further and thought against it. Weyoun felt relief at that. While Weyoun 5 had greatly enjoyed Dukat’s attention Weyoun 6 was finding the looks Dukat was giving him harder to bare and much less pleasant. Going into the briefing it was much like any other meeting. Damar was there. Oddly Weyoun didn’t feel the usual petty anger he was used to when around Damar. Locking eyes with him as he sat down. He felt….sad? Was that the emotion he was feeling? Emotions were always difficult to gauge with a new brain, it was frustrating to say the least. Whatever he was feeling must have reflected on his face because the smug look Damar had as he walked in had shifted into one of agitation and almost like guilt. Something Weyoun 7 had a hard time believing he’d see on his face. Damar was many things but rash in his actions was not one of them. It made Weyoun 7 wish he could look at his own face, see what Damar had seen that had made him give him that expression. The meeting itself wasn’t much to remember. Just an update on the war and the current tenseness with Bajor. 

Kira, Odo and even Dukat’s daugher Ziyal had disappeared when the Federation had attempted to retake the station and the wormhole. When the update on current status was over Dukat began telling them about how he managed to keep hold of the station. Weyoun sitting directly next to Dukat who was at the head of the table. Weyoun had found that Cardassians and those with big egos took such positions very seriously. So he had quickly taken the subordinate seat of Dukat’s left side while Damar was on his right. The story itself wasn’t that memorable or that surprising. Dukat was trying to spin how the Jem’Hadar forces making their way through the wormhole at the last minute was actually all part of his plan the whole time. The baseball that Sisko had left was being rolled under Dukat’s right hand. His left hand snaked under the table and over Weyoun’s thigh. Weyoun 6 tensed. Dukat had never been so bold with Weyoun 5. Sure he had shown minor indiscretion with Damar around but not with the entire head of The Dominion this side of the wormhole. And unlike Weyoun 5 who had found such attention flattering and enjoyable Weyoun 6 was finding it humiliating and it flooded him with fear. The thought that at any moment Dukat would push him further, take it even farther in front of all these people made his stomach turn.

Clawed fingers kneaded his thigh. Dukat’s voice nothing but pleased while Weyoun was as tense as his body would allow. What would the others think of him if they knew what Dukat was doing just under the table? He doubted they would take Weyoun as seriously or worse, think that he enjoyed being treated as such during such situations. The thought disgusted him. Weyoun 6 felt confusion as to why he was taking Dukat’s advances so differently than Weyoun 5. A large part of it was that Dukat was being less discreet. He had kept their sexual relationship out of their work in the past. Either this win had emboldened him or worse, his daughter abandoning him and Kira leaving his radar had shifted all of his attention and desire for control entirely onto Weyoun. The thought of being the sole bearer of Dukat’s attention made his skin crawl. It was tolerable, and even enjoyable when it was games that never left the privacy of their quarters. But Dukat’s hands trailing up to grip him through his pants made his body freeze and nausea rise within him. It was clear that being the only one to have to deal with such attention from Dukat was a duty he was not likely to find easy or enjoyable like before. When the meeting wrapped up Dukat had gripped him by the shoulder.

“Weyoun would you mind I wish to go over some things you had missed.” The rest of the group left.

Leaving Weyoun alone with Dukat in the briefing room. It reminded him of their first night together and how it had started here. Their relationship, if you even wanted to call it that. A relationship suggests two partners, two equal sides moving around each other, with each other, together. But it was clear as Dukat gripped his face and backed him into the window that this was not what Dukat wanted and most definitely not how he saw Weyoun. 

He grabbed Weyoun’s hips and pulled him up to sit on the edge of the window, “So this body is entirely new.” It wasn’t really a question.

***  
More of an observation as Dukat was touching him. The main thing Weyoun 7 noticed was that the sex wasn’t as fulfilling as it had been for Weyoun 5. For Weyoun 6 he had felt gross, degraded to be treated as such so quickly after his birth and while he was supposed to be busy, enacting the will of the Founders. Dukat had given him biting kisses through the ordeal, something Weyoun 7 had enjoyed but Weyoun 6 didn’t find any pleasure in. Only the pain in the soft flesh of his lips was noticeable. Even his cries were different. They only expressed pain, there was none of the pleasure lacing it as there had been for Weyoun 7. The neural connection between pleasure and pain were not connected, but starkly different for Weyoun 6.   
***

What bothered Weyoun 7 about it was that these memories made him feel defective. Corrupted as if his enjoyment of pain wasn’t something he shouldn’t have. As if his desire to be hurt was something obscene. It upset him so much it pulled him out of his memories.

He blinked and was staring down at a bowl of food. Looking up he was sitting on the floor. Surrounded by other Vorta eating. A few had untouched bowls in front of them as they just laid there, as though asleep but their eyes were open. Like they were seeing but clearly not looking at anything that was actually there. Confusion flooded him as he realized he had pulled himself out of his memories. A few of the Jem’Hadar were also eating. The ones with the white tubes gone at least were. Not wanting to deal with the present and desiring more answers he forced himself back into Weyoun 6’s memories.

He was having lunch with Dukat in Dukat’s quarters. Which was odd, usually Weyoun took his lunches alone to get his thoughts and plans together. However Dukat had insisted that he join him for lunch. Weyoun 6 couldn’t come up with a credible enough justification for not going so here he was. Dukat was talking about the search for Ziyal on Bajor.

“Kira and Odo must be keeping her from me. She loves me and would not abandon me after all I had given up for her.” As if Ziyal owed him for doing the bare minimum of not killing her and deciding to be a father to her instead of dumping her like so many other Cardassian orphans.

Weyoun 6 managed to hold back the rolling of his eyes. It seemed ludicrous to him that Dukat was in such denial about his daughter being a collaborater with the Federation. Damar had just harped on him about it before they broke for lunch. Of all the things Weyoun had expected, a screaming match between the Gul’s was not what he thought he’d be seeing on his first day back. Damar, correctly had told him that trying to get Ziyal to rejoin them was just asking for her to spy on them to the resistance. Dukat countered with how his daughter would never do that. How she owed him and was being held captive against her will because why else would she not be here, by her father’s side? The idea that Ziyal disagreed with him, that she would view his politics as wrong was something he refused to listen to and could not accept. Weyoun had sat on the sidelines of that argument but it was clear to him that Damar’s loyalty to Dukat was fracturing. It seemed Dukat’s delusions about himself were growing too big and consuming to be ignored by Damar any longer. 

Dukat cupped Weyoun’s face, “You do seem different.” Dukat said, changing the subject.

“I do?” He didn’t feel that different.

“Yes,” Dukat moved his hand down to lightly grip his throat, “You seem...almost younger, naive, more innocent somehow.” The way Dukat said that had him holding in a shudder.

***  
Like the idea was pleasing to him. Dukat pulled him in for a kiss. It didn’t take more than a few minutes before Dukat had him on his knees below the table. This was definitely different than before. Dukat had seemed to respect Weyoun, or at least Weyoun 5. This, the way he was being treated was not respect. He was not treating him as an equal, he was treating him as an object to be used. Weyoun managed to pull off the tears on his face as ones from being overwhelmed with how Dukat was fucking his mouth.   
***

Again Weyoun 7 was pulled from these memories. The disgust of Weyoun 6 disturbed him, jolted him back to reality. He was lying on the floor. A pillow below his head. The light breathing of the Vorta sleeping around him so quiet even his excellent hearing could only barely pick it up. The footsteps of the Jem’Hadar patrolling were the loudest thing he could hear. The way Weyoun 6 differed in his view of Dukat disturbed him. Was it because Weyoun 6 had expected the same treatment as Weyoun 5 while Weyoun 7 had immediately been informed of his position as a glorified sex toy that made their experiences different? Or was it something else? Something innate to Weyoun 6? Or worse was it a sign of something wrong with HIM Weyoun 7? So far he couldn’t read anything remarkably different about Weyoun 6. His memories and emotions felt similar enough to every previous Weyouns. Maybe if he kept watching he’d discover what it was that made him so different.

Weyoun 6 was lying in bed, crying. First night back and he was already upset. He was thankful that Dukat hadn’t asked him to come over. He had avoided going to Quark’s to avoid running into him or tempting him in any way. Eventually his tears died down to a strange sort of calm, not resignation like how most of Weyoun 5 and 7’s cry sessions ended. No this was something different, determination.

Weyoun 6 walked to his door, it slid open to reveal his Jem’Hadar guard standing outside, “Come in for a moment.” Weyoun 6 said before turning around and going to sit on his couch.

Weyoun 6 was tired and he felt he was already about to snap in two. Pressure heavy behind his eyes. He tried his best to suppress it. Unallowed psychic powers were a death sentence to an unregistered Vorta.

“Third what do you think of Gul Dukat?” He asked, what he must look like with his swollen eyes and disheveled hair.

The third took a deep breath before responding, “I think he is unfit to lead anything let alone a major power. I do not like him and do not understand how you manage to tolerate him?” That had Weyoun chuckle.

“I don’t is the answer,” His voice cracked, Weyoun covered his eyes to shield them from the light which seemed so much brighter all of the sudden, “What would you say if we could get rid of him? Would that please you? Do the other Jem’Hadar on the station feel the same way? What exactly do you want?” Weyoun was rambling in his questions.

He wished he had alcohol. It wasn’t easy for him to get drunk but the idea of dulling his senses seemed like a blessing. Anything to make these lights less bright and his thoughts less clear. It took the third a moment to reply. By the time he had started to speak Weyoun 6 was reflection on Weyoun 5’s memories and trying to see if his predecessor had misjudged Dukat or if he was being treated so differently.

“I would say that while Gul Dukat is certainly the worst Cradassian we have to deal with and getting rid of him would be a relief. That the Jem’Hadar overall do not care for the Cardassians, we find them greedy, cruel and spiteful in a way that reminds us of…” He paused for a moment, “Others. I personally wish we did not have to deal with them at all.” The third took a moment to examine Weyoun, “And I would state that I don’t believe the way you are being treated encourages any desire for loyalty or respect to them.” 

Weyoun’s hand was still over his eyes trying to block out the lights, “Computer lower the light levels by 60%.” That helped so much, he removed his hand to get a better look at his third, “Thank you, return to your duties.” Weyoun waved him away.

Weyoun desperately wished he had someone he could talk to about this. Someone he could truly relate to. A thought entered his head. Without much deliberation or consideration as to the consequences he pulled out his padd. He typed up a message and sent it.

‘I don’t think I want to be here anymore.’ Is what he typed, to him anyways it felt like he was just screaming into the void.

‘My predecessor found joy in his work while I am only finding humiliation and pain. Am I defective?’ He continued to type, feeling good about unleashing these forbidden thoughts.

‘I’ve only been back a day and I wish this war was over and that I could leave, be anywhere else, DO anything else.’ He continued.

‘I know you are not able to read this.’

‘But I am finding the burden of holding the expectations of my Founders difficult under the circumstances.’

‘Out of anyone I feel that you would understand.’

‘Knowing the expectations placed on you. And due to both of us having to deal with Skrain.’ He sighed, feeling a little lighter for having said it, even if it was too no one.

… appeared on his padd

‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to?’ -Z Popped up.

‘How do you mean?’ Weyoun was to intrigued to consider how she managed to keep a hold of her padd or why she would respond.

‘I mean that you don’t have to stay there. That my father isn’t…..’

There was several long minutes with a string of ….. as she typed and rewrote her reply.

‘He isn’t the best for those around him. That despite what he says he isn’t able to give like he thinks he can.’ Ziyal replied finally.

‘So what I just leave? Just take a shuttle and fly into the void of space? I may want to leave but if I wanted a death sentence there are much easier ways to go about it’ -W

‘You could be of help? If you are suffering this way I doubt you are the only Vorta to be doing so?’ The thought had never occurred to him.

Weyoun like most other Vorta tried not to think about his people too much. Besides the facts that they were untrustworthy, despicable and self-serving. It always made him ashamed of himself. Everyday he tried to prove to the Founders that HE was deserving of their grace DESPITE his nature, DESPITE what the Vorta were. He also wanted to distance himself from the few Vorta he had to deal with as much as possible. And ejecting them from his thoughts seemed like the best way to do so. So the idea of considering the similarities between his own experiences and other Vorta had never occurred to him. It certainly hadn’t helped that Vorta refused to waste time on such things as discussing their personal experiences.

‘I’d honestly never thought about that.’ Weyoun responded.

‘Well give it some thought. Maybe talk to another Vorta? See if you have things in common? I know having meet other mixed Bajorans and Cardassians has helped me. Everyone always talks about us as if we are something to be pitied as if our mothers were all forced and as if our very lives are living reminders of the Occupation. Since having been on Bajor and talking to others like me I’ve learned a lot more about what’s important to me and what is important to change. It’s helped me accept who I am and learn to actually like myself instead of trying to fit into what others tell me to be.’ -Z

Her suggestion made him curious. There was a secure channel for Vorta. It was mainly just a section of The Dominion communications for the administrators of The Dominion, who were of course all Vorta. The Jem’Hadar were banned from using cross space communication without supervision and the Founders never sullied their hands with the knitty gritty of the day to day running of The Dominion. He’d never seen these used for something like this. It made his fingers twitch, as though he was certainly doing something he shouldn’t but something he knew he must do. So he started a thread, ‘I Wish I Could Be Anyone Else’ where he explained his feelings. He kept it anonymous and vague, that his liaison work was draining him, that who he was handling him wasn’t respecting him or his position, that the war was taking a toll on him, before wrapping it up with a wish that he could be anyone else, do anything else.

He had set his padd down to go to sleep, feeling better for having vented to Ziyal. Waking up with his alarm the next morning he grabbed his padd to check his schedule and he saw that his thread had hundreds of responses. Shocked he scrolled through them. All of them were detailed descriptions of other Vorta feeling similarly to him. Their own admissions kept vague and anonymous but it was clear, Weyoun was not alone in this. That determination he had felt last night had flooded through him. It got him up and getting ready for his day with ease, as if he was almost excited to go to work. Because now he knew that he wasn’t alone, it meant that they could do something about it. The rest of the day was tolerable, much more so than the previous day. By the time his shift was over that thread had exploded into the thousands. By sheer numbers almost every Vorta had made a post about their dissatisfaction with their treatment under The Dominion. 

Looking through them Weyoun 6 recalled Weyoun 4’s dismissal and disgust with the Jem’Hadar that had attempted to break away from The Dominion. The sheer idea that not only that they had a chance but that The Dominion wasn’t infallible was something he couldn’t believe. Sure Weyoun 4’s life hadn’t been easy but it could have been harder? Why couldn’t the Jem’Hadar just be ‘grateful’ that they weren’t immediately given the worst fate imaginable? Weyoun 4 was grateful, he had thanked the Founders every moment he could that he wasn’t at a training facility, dealing with young, freshly addicted Jem’Hadar children with their fierce tempers and strength. But as he scrolled through these descriptions of the lives of other Vorta it became clear that The Dominion did not treat them well or fairly. That Founders would demote a Vorta to horrendous death and a poor next life for simple mistakes. It grew clear that his experiences with the Jem’Hadar were much closer than his similarities to the Founders. The Founders had made them this way after all. If they had wanted people like themselves, who truly understood them than why not simply make them? Why manufacture a people who they inherently view as inferior due to the DNA they structured unless they wanted someone below them, someone to stand on top of.

Dukat seemed like a much easier burden to handle for the rest of the day. His advances easy to shift, easy to deal with. Because it was clear to Weyoun 6 that Dukat did not respect him and would not treat him with such. That most likely he had never respected him. That Dukat viewing himself as closer to the Founders than the Vorta was foolish. The way he would try and impress his Founder like a bird trying to court a partner. Except who he was courting wasn’t a fellow bird but a predator, amused at the dance before ready to strike it down when the bird had finished with it’s purpose. It occurred to him to discuss this with Dukat. But when Dukat pressed him against the door after the meeting with the Founder it became obvious that Dukat was too pleased with where he was at to ever listen to him. Dukat was too busy wrapped up in his delusions as a good father and savior of Bajor to ever listen and learn how to actually go about doing any of those things.

That night he called in his guard again. Only this time he called in the whole unit and had a full on discussion with them. It was long, going on till the wee hours of the morning. While physically Weyoun 6 was tired, emotionally, spiritually he had never been more awake. His unit of guards had made it obvious that they, and every Jem’Hadar on the station felt similarly. That the problem wasn’t the Vorta, the Jem’Hadar or even the Cardassians. The problem was with the very foundations of the Dominion itself. It’s why Weyoun started a new thread. This thread asking if other Vorta had the chance would they change things? Would they leave The Dominion if they could truly escape, if there was no way for the Founders or anyone else to retaliate? The response was an almost universal, yes. The next two days were some of the busiest Weyoun ever recalled. He was constantly on his padd, organizing Vorta and Jem’Hadar alike. Things were going well. It was almost shocking how easy it was for everyone to agree that The Dominon was the problem. Like the way it harmed it’s people was so obvious that the fact no one had spoken of it before seemed the strangest bit.

His attention drawn to organizing, he wasn’t focusing as much on his work for the Founders. Or as Weyoun 7 reflected on these memories, it was what was happening around Weyoun 6 that he didn’t notice. His attention was away from Dukat and with Weyoun being the only one in Dukat’s radar with Kira, Ziyal and now even Damar avoiding him. What happened next was obvious, though not to Weyoun 6. He had been spending as much time in his quarters organizing as he could reasonably get away with. Everything was coming together. It wouldn’t be hard at all to bring what they had to the Federation. Dukat had come into his quarters after shift. Weyoun wasn’t expecting him but with how Dukat had been treating him he wasn’t to surprised. He sat down his padd and approached Dukat. It had become easier to lie to Dukat now that he had a goal in mind.

“Dukat how can I help you?” Weyoun started, his tone pleasant.

Dukat grabbed the sides of his face and leaned down for a tender kiss before pulling back, “You know Weyoun I’m surprised.” Dukat ran his right hand up and through is hair till it was at the back of his head, “Of all the things I had expected from you this was not it.” He gripped the short hairs at the back of his head, tugging them, claws digging into the soft flesh of his scalp. 

Weyoun cried out. He attempted to speak but Dukat grabbed his throat with a bruising grip with his left hand.

“No, no Weyoun. Right now you are going to listen to me.” Dukat leaned close so there noses were pressed together, lips so close that whenever he spoke they brushed against one another.

Under different circumstance this kind of closeness would be a sign of intimacy, of trust. But that’s not what Dukat wanted or was trying to give Weyoun. No what he wanted to was to remind Weyoun of his place. Letting go of his throat he pulled out a padd, not Weyoun’s but a different one. 

“I’ve informed the Founders of your little meetings with the Jem’Hadar on this station.” Weyoun was terrified that Dukat was going to bite him, the look in his eyes was that he would, that he wanted to, that the fear and pain that he saw in Weyoun was exactly what he wanted to see, “It seems you’ve forgotten who has surveillance of this station Weyoun. The Obsidian Order may technically be gone but their reach, tech and operatives are not.” Weyoun tried to rip his head away.

That just caused those claws to dig in deeper, blood oozing down his neck, “Sh, sh, sh,” Dukat’s voice showing that he was not trying to actually sooth Weyoun, he was mocking him, “Don’t fret to much Weyoun.” Dukat smiled sadistically at him, “I’ve already arranged for your future.” He leaned in and touched his lips to Weyoun’s jaw, “You’ll be exactly where you’re supposed to be, with me, under me.” His words seeping into Weyoun’s skin like a curse, “The Jem’Hadar on site will be taken care of of course. Damar has already seen to the next batch of white being poisoned to remove them.” He planted a kiss, his eyes dark and pleased with the whine that escaped Weyoun’s throat.

Dukat leaned away, giving Weyoun some space so he could look at him, “You know I am almost sad you won’t remember this. They assure me that you won’t have any recollection of this,” He gestured to all of Weyoun, “version of you. It would make things more difficult for both the Founders and my use of you.” He leaned in again to kiss Weyoun’s trembling mouth, “I am tempted.” Dukat’s voice was deep, did his eyes have a red tinge to them or was that all just Weyoun’s fear? “But I think I’d best not give in.” Pulling back tears escaped Weyoun’s eyes, “Oh but what plans do I have for you.” Dukat sat the padd down and returned to gripped Weyoun’s head.

Weyoun’s hands reaching up to drag his blunt nails on the scaled hands gripping him. Trying to get him to let him go knowing that he wouldn’t. Dukat looked to be having too much fun with this to let a little pain get in the way. 

“So next time I see you we’ll get to start this over. Do this right, have the relationship that’s best for us,” Dukat sounded deranged, what the hell was he talking about? What could he be thinking that made this okay? “Don’t take this too personally Weyoun.” Dukat smiled in a way that showed that he was more than happy with this outcome, “I do care for you, just not this you. The next you will be much better at being what I want.” 

***  
With that there was a sudden sharp, pain radiating from his neck, it waved through his whole body. The sound of the snapping of his neck was loud. Dukat dropped him. For several moments Weyoun was still there, in his body. The time it took for his vision to fade was horrifyingly long. Weyoun 6 died afraid and in despair.   
***

Weyoun 7 opened his eyes and Kurill Prime was bathed in light. One of the few daylight hours. He wast standing outside a facility. The Jem’Hadar fourth Ozidi’nuk directing a handful Vorta into a building.

“How many days has it been since we arrived here?” Weyoun asked feeling like he had missed so much time lost in the past.

“This is the third day.” Ozidi’nuk answered, “Come inside.” He directed Weyoun towards the door, “You can discuss this inside.” Unsure of what the fourth meant but trusting him he walked in.

End of Chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finished writing the last chapter. Will be editing and posting the last two chapters tomorrow.
> 
> From Katad’ram's point of view

Katad’ram was currently working his way through the list of recommended regular activities that would assist the Vorta in their transition to being without the Founders. Sisko had also recommended some of them would be useful for his own people. The current one he was trying to implement was something called ‘group therapy’ where a group sits together to share and discuss previous experiences. Katad’ram felt that as first he should lead in these things till they grew accustomed to them. His lack of white addiction was making his own switch from weapon without will or a future to an individual person much more manageable than what his brothers were going through. They were all sitting in a circle, Katad’ram as the only Jem’Hadar sitting with them while his third sat back observing. The Vorta were doing there best to not look at each other or even point their bodies in the direction of another Vorta. Katad’ram almost found it impressive since there were over twenty Vorta in this circle. Three of which had just turned around in their chair refusing to even face inwards, towards the other Vorta. 

The catatonic ones had to be carried around the facilities. They had yet to eat in the time the Jem’Hadar have taken custody of them. Katad’ram worried they’d have to implement some sort of feeding tube arrangement if they couldn’t get them to eat on their own. How the Federation had managed to get them to eat he did not know. Thinking about the Federation angered him. It had been the Jem’Hadar who suggested the Vorta go into their custody. Not that the Vorta had disagreed with them, they hadn’t even pushed them on that suggestion. It was mainly suggested because after everything the Jem’Hadar didn’t want to have to deal with the Vorta again in the future. Now it has become clear that while individuals like Captain Sisko were honorable and true to their word that to trust an organization like the Federation was unwise. It had clearly caused damage to the Vorta. 

Katad’ram had read the reports of what exactly the Federation was doing with them. They were attempting to discover the limits of the Vorta’s psychic and telekinetic powers to know how to contain them. Apparently higher ups had worried that since the Vorta had rebelled before that they would do so again, but under them. The files state that they did not intend to house them with other war criminals and wanted to have specialized facilities till they had been properly ‘acclimatized’ to Federation ways and to be able to ‘contain and suppress’ these abilities.

While not well versed in such things Katad’ram felt that acclimatized sounded a lot like reeducation and containing and suppressing something that came naturally to them sounded a lot like torture to him. It made him wonder if the Federation would have treated the Jem’Hadar similarly? Would they have tried to find a way to stop them from cloaking or a way to remove their ability to cloak? And the idea that the Vorta as a whole would just use their powers to rebel against the Federation seemed ludicrous to him. Katad’ram may not trust the Vorta in many ways but to say that they were a rebellious and violent people would be a lie. Katad’ram could think of less than five Vorta that had used their own hands to instill violence in the entire history of The Dominion. The Vorta were dangerous because they were good at convincing others to do their dirty work for them and because they crumble under authority not because they are dangerous in and of themselves. As a people the Vorta were weak willed, while the Jem’Hadar had their will gripped within the tight fist of addiction. The Vorta had little desire to change things even to just better themselves, which was why in previous coop attempts the Jem’Hadar had never even considered asking for Vorta assistance. He was glad that Captain Sisko had informed them of what the Federation had been doing. Despite their desire to move forward on their own, to abandon the Vorta to such a fate would taint them. Make them like the Vorta in their turning a blind eye to suffering just because it was not their own.

Katad’ram tried to get a discussion going or for anyone to share something. All that followed his question was a long silence. He felt out of place in such a position. As first he was used to speaking for his unit but even then only when necessary. The idea of starting a conversation to get someone else to talk was not something he knew how to do. Ironically this was along the skill set the Vorta were implanted with. But seemingly none of the Vorta were going to speak up. In this particular circle he had Weyoun and Keevan. Him and his second had sectioned off groups to ones they’d hoped would be willing to interact with one another. Both Weyoun and Keevan had organized the Vorta side of the rebellion and Katad’ram and his second Dasu’venet had felt they should have a bond over such a working relationship. As the minutes dragged on Katad’ram wondered if he had misjudged how they had organized these groups. The Vorta were a strange people. As far as Katad’ram knew the most Vorta that had ever stood in the same room together was five. For his own part Katad’ram was a bit surprised at just how strange the sight of so many Vorta was. It was unheard of in The Dominion to require so many Vorta together. It made him wonder if he should rearrange these to smaller groups? Get them down to more ‘normal’ numbers. A way to get them used to seeing, being around and talking to other Vorta.

For the entire hour no one spoke. Katad’ram hadn’t pushed anyone specific to speak mainly because of his observation to draw down these groups. Dasu’venet and himself reworked the group sizes down to six when the day was over and all the other groups went about as well as the first one. Still more than he’s ever heard of being together but only slightly so. Hopefully that should ease any anxiety and distrust they have for one another. The buildings the industrial grade replicators had started were mostly finished. For now they were just basic rectangles with plenty of rooms to house the Vorta and give them their own space. What they choose to do with them will be up to them. It was just getting them to a point where they would actually ‘do’ something instead of just staring at nothing for hours. Katad’ram had never thought much about Vorta behavior before. But it’s one thing to have your Vorta stare off into the distance while you were doing menial tasks. It’s another when there are hundreds of Vorta staring off into the middle distance not acknowledging anything around them. It was eerie to say the least. The next day came quickly. Hopefully the lower group number will make everyone a bit more comfortable. The first group started with him asking if anyone wanted to talk about anything. For the first several minutes there was silence. Like yesterday each Vorta was refusing to look at the others and outright trying to pretend there wasn’t anyone else in the room. 

Then Weyoun spoke, “I have something to talk about.” He was tapping his finger against his chair, Katad’ram couldn’t hear it but Eris was covering her ears as if it was the loudest sound possible, “Why is it that it’s over, The Dominion is gone but we aren’t done yet? The whole point was that once The Dominion was gone these things would stop happening but they haven’t. It makes me very tired.” There was a long pause after he spoke, like no one was sure what to say to that, Katad’ram certainly didn’t know what to say.

“Maybe someone should have chosen a different group to just sign away our lives too?” Yelgrun said, his head still tilted away from the conversation.

“Like I had much say in that matter.” Weyoun’s voice heavy with anger, “It was a decision we ALL agreed on.” Another silence followed.

Keevan had been rubbing at his temples before he spoke, “I think that trying to find someone to blame is pointless.” His eyes were closed like he was in pain, “I just want to know what should we do next? What’s the plan for the future? Do we just rot here till we are driven mad and our powers explode beyond our control? Or do we instigate a whole new generation of clones to eliminate this corruption?”

“You cannot seriously be suggesting we kill every one of us?” Kilana who had been staring at the floor snapped her head to glare at Keevan, “That would achieve nothing. All it would do is delay what is happening at best. Topping everything off with another death is unlikely to do anything but hinder any progress we’ve made so far.” 

“Progress? PROGRESS? You see this as us progressing?” Keevan shook his head, “We’ve been abandoned. We trusted the wrong people. To just assume that we know what’s best after such a massive flaw in judgment is dangerous. It is clear that the ground we are standing on is unstable we need to start again, give ourselves another chance.”

“Of course just start over,” Kilana threw her hands up, “See this is why no one likes to deal with older lines. Your solution for everything is to just scrap it and hope the next one will somehow be different, as if the problem is your body and NOT YOU.” She pointed at Keevan.

Keevan had also turned his eyes to her, the anger obvious on his face. Katad’ram may not be good and reading faces but he has known ever flavor of anger out there.

Kilana kept talking, “SOME of us can’t afford another generation, just fucking look at Eris!” Eris was rocking back and forth, “She’s on her twenty first generation it’s a miracle she managed to handle this body. Do you really think just throwing everything out because you have some feelings you don’t like is gonna fix everything?” She pointed at the ground, “What we need to do is learn how to ACTUALLY fix things, how to ACTUALLY handle our powers and these problems. Just going back to the drawing board every time things get hard is EXACTLY what the Founders did with us and I REFUSE to do anything like they did ever again.” After her speech another long pause.

Katad’ram looked between all of the Vorta. Keevan had stopped glaring at Kilana and turned back to the ground. Kilana reached over as if to place her hand on Eris’s back but decided against it. Eris had stopped rocking but had kept her hands over her ears. Yelgrun was looking between everyone else. Deyoth was the sixth one in the group but he was one of the catatonic ones. The most he hand managed to do was stay seated in his chair. 

Yelgrun spoke next, “So what then hm? Kilana your saying a lot about what we shouldn’t do but nothing about what we should do.”

“You know Yelgrun for someone who’s on his second generation I don’t think you have much reason to be critical here. I’m not saying I have the answers only that I REFUSE to go along with something as destructive as a generation wide eradication. Trying to just iron out the kinks in our DNA hasn’t fixed anything for thousands of years and I’m done using it as the solution.” Kilana responded.

“Who out of us is the oldest?” There as a pause, “As in time not generations?” Weyoun asked.

Katad’ram looked around the room. Out of all of them none were older than a year, “Eris is the oldest according to the records at eight months.” Katad’ram answered.

“See this is something we should talk about. Our time alive vs generations. We keep talking about generations as if dying makes us wiser. Just because we have more memories that doesn’t mean we know more about how to live.” Weyoun said.

“There is only us now.” A quiet voice added, “We are alone. Our gods are gone, the Jem’Hadar will abandon us like everyone else. So if we must be alone we should figure out how we can do that.” Deyouth said, his voice soft but he did not move.

Another long silence. This one stretched for several minutes. Katad’ram hoped they were considering, thinking about what had been said. However he was a poor judge of such things. The tension and anger that had been so palpable that Katad’ram could taste it had dissipated. But already Katad’ram felt hopeful about things. Because now they were talking to each other. And while talk wasn’t something he was good at. Communication with his unit was and without communication there is no moving forward.

End of Chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to just do a quick edit and post them now because I'm very excited to have finished this.

Weyoun and the other Vorta have been on their homeworld for a month now. So far things haven’t gone very well. While those first few days no one wanted to even speak to another Vorta once the seal was broken arguments were breaking out all over. The Jem’Hadar for their part kept out of it as long as it didn’t break into a fight. Which it never did, at least not physically. Kilana had gotten into a screaming match with Yelgrumn during session and it escalated till her powers flared out, causing half the room to find themselves thrown over three meters back. No one was seriously hurt but they had medical supplies on hand as well as several doctors and scientists if they needed it. 

For his part Weyoun was trying to build up the courage to talk with Keevan privately. During session they danced around each other, refusing to directly talk to one another or respond directly to the others point or statement. It seemed there was plenty of discussion about what they should do in the future. Keevan wasn’t alone in wanting to just launch a new generation. However Kilana had more supporters due to all the older generation Vorta who were unlikely to make the transition to another body. The catatonic ones coming back into their bodies only added to Kilana’s side. Soon Keevan and the few who were very for a new generation stopped bringing it up. The continuation side had more numbers and less risk of lose. 

The buildings the industrial replicators had built were...rudimentary even to Weyoun’s eyes. There was enough rooms for each Vorta to have their own space with a bed, a small kitchen area, a desk and a small sitting space. It was all in one room and was adequate enough. No one complained at least. Having their own space greatly improved the moods of every Vorta. Just because they had accepted that they had to talk with other Vorta did not mean they wanted to live with them. There were communal replicators in the buildings for use. As far as their basic needs were going they were all meet. Outside of organizing activities like group sessions the Jem’Hadar had organized a few of the scientists to go on exploratory hikes. Whether to collect samples, make maps, or just get used to the area. Weyoun thought a lot of it was mainly just busy work. Their planet was mapped millennia ago, the life and resources all cataloged by the Founders. Katad’ram had said it was a way for them to ‘connect’ with their home. Whatever that meant. Not that Weyoun disliked the activity. He in fact looked forward to it. With how dark the planet usual was it was nice not having to constantly strain his eyes to try and keep up with the vision requirements of the other species around him.

He had never realized how physically painful it was to try and force himself to fit into a mold that suited species so very different from his own. His hearing more than good enough that he quickly adapted to almost entirely using his hearing to move about. Weyoun wasn’t alone in this, he had noticed other Vorta doing it as well. It was on one of these hikes he had come across a family of his ancestors. They were soft footed, their steps light due to the thick black fur between their toes. If it was during the day he would be able to see the similarities in their big purple, mostly blind eyes and those big sensitive ears. Strangely the animals were not afraid of them. That was something the Founders had never instilled, cruelty to ‘non-sentient’ beings. No their subjugation was only for beings who built tall structures and turned their eyes towards the stars. So his ancestors had no reason to fear them. There were plenty of other things to fear. While the number of carnivores on this planet were high none of them were a threat to either the Vorta or Jem’Hadar. 

The only ones they were warned to keep watch for was venomous animals, which were many. However due to their size they would only strike at them if they felt threatened and were told of the warning signs to watch out for. His ancestors didn’t even have a name. The closest they had to a name was ri’vortas which loosely meant Vorta elder in Dominion. The ri’vortas had initially hid when he got close to them but Weyoun quickly heard them come back out. The Vorta scientists on site likely rarely left their facilities meaning such large creatures as him were not something they were used to. Most of the fauna on Kurill was small, the largest of which was a boar like animal that roamed in large family units. So when he heard the low, soft sounds from the ri’vortas he crouched down to get closer. The one nearest scurried away back into the hollowed out tree before coming back out. Only the slights rustle of the leaves on the jungle floor let him know that the ri’vortas had approached him till he felt a small slight touch to his knee before it bolted away again. Weyoun was finding the whole interaction amusing. It was strange, the feeling it had awakened in him was one he couldn’t easily identify. There was a definite note of amusement, but mainly he felt a sort of sad longing.

“Are you wondering about what we would be like without the Founders involvement?” Keevan said from about a meter away.

His footsteps soft and light, not that Weyoun was really listening for them.

“Not exactly,” The ri’vortas had scurried back into it’s hole at Keevan’s voice, “I was thinking about how much alike we actually are to them? When I was a geneticist splicing is something I didn’t work on but one I know has been used heavily on both our people and the Jem’Hadar. Meaning even if the Founders had never come here and somehow these creatures were given every branch off point possible we would not exist.” He was thinking allowed now, “How much of us is from them? What else are we? Does that even matter now?” Weyoun reached his hand out to encourage the creature to come out.

It churred at him when it came back, Weyoun copied the sound. They did this back and forth a few times.

“I owe you an apology Keevan.” Weyoun said after a moment of copying the creature, “I should not have assaulted you. No matter how angry I was it was not right of me to attack you……” Weyoun trailed off, “Especially since I am starting to think that you may have been right….that I’m defective or altered to find such things enjoyable. Now that I have Weyoun 6’s memories….Dukat had said something about…..how I would be made to please him and…”

“Stop.” Keevan interrupted him , “I was not right in what I had said, I was in a place of bitterness and said that to hurt you not because it was true. If anything it was something I had wished to be true,” Keevan walked over to crouch next to him, “Because you were there, a constant reminder of my mistakes. Of what I had worked to escape from. Blaming you had felt good and while faced with our uncertain future I wanted to distance myself from you.” The ri’vortas had come back out, Weyoun was now able to tell that it was making a soft sound by vibrating it’s ears, it seemed to be a pleased one by how it was using it, “So no Weyoun you are not defective and whatever alters were done to you are not your fault. Never feel that taking what little control and pleasure you could out of such a situation makes you like him. You are not Weyoun and I apologize for ever making you think you were.”

Weyoun felt tears on his cheeks. He took in a shakey in breath to get control of himself. From next to him he could hear Keevan trying to copy the sound the ri’vortas had made with its ears. The sound was much higher pitched and sounded so strange it had Weyoun laughing, Keevan joined in his laughter. Weyoun made his own attempt, having never intentionally tried to move his ears so quickly. His hair had it tickle.

“Keevan,” Weyoun had started once they were walking back to their facilities, “Do you still want to do a new generation?” He was curious how Keevan had dropped it within the past week.

Keevan took a few moments to respond, their feet quiet on the underbrush, “Yes and no. I know Kilana is right in this. That we should move forward as ourselves, that it would be cruel to destroy the last chance of the older lines.” He heard Keevan step over a log, “But apart of me desperately wants to start again. To have these experiences dulled by another death. However I don’t believe my brain would handle another generation.”

“Yet you still want it?” Weyoun asked.

“What I want is to have my other lives back. I would give anything to have a new chance. You Weyoun and the younger lines have that while the older lines and myself will maybe have one or two generations out of us if we’re lucky.” They could hear other voices carry across the field as they grew closer to the facilities, “I guess I envy you. I’m am not ready to give up the hope for a life that is mine.” There was light coming out of several of the windows.

It had been hours since they had used their eyes much and stood outside a bit to give themselves time to adjust, “Even if you will never have a new body that doesn’t mean this life can’t be yours. Your past may have been taken from you but we still have our future. And I would much rather have this Keevan join me in it.” Keevan smiled at him.

“Thank you Weyoun, I appreciate that.” Weyoun then vibrated his ears to break the odd tension that had built between them.

Keevan chuckled and did it back. They parted ways, going to their separate quarters for the night. When Weyoun laid down to sleep he felt much lighter. It made him realize how much weight he had been carrying to suddenly have it gone. As if he had been carrying Dukat around on his back. A burden he had been terrified to discuss or just set down. Because he had feared it would follow him, sink that feeling that they had been more alike than different deeper if he didn’t just hold that fear as close to himself as possible. To keep it secret so no one could see, in case it was true. But if anyone would know it would be Keevan, who had also suffered under Dukat. For the first time, Weyoun wasn’t ashamed of being a Vorta and in fact, was feeling a little bit of pride in himself. The fear and doubts that had been plaguing him knowing that the Jem’Hadar would leave them were no longer as strong. Because Weyoun was beginning to believe that maybe they didn’t need them as much as he had thought.

End of Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

As the months passed things became easier. The initial psychic flare ups were lowering as they discovered ways to manage them and even control them. Simple things as just lowering the amount of light helped enormously. Once the lights in the facilities were at the Vorta’s preferred level it made for less migraines which were often the first step to a flare up. Other things such as confronting what they had been through whether through talking about it, using their powers or the files to go through past memories, or even just getting to the step of accepting it had happened was helping lower the chance of an accidental power trigger. The Federation had been right in that trauma would bring it out but that wasn’t just it. As the Vorta were given the time and space to really get to know themselves it became clear that when they were in a calm state, they could actually control their powers. Sure the flare ups were usually immensely powerful. Eris had a nightmare in the early months that had lifted the very building from the foundation. However she had to spend the next several weeks recovering from it. But when they had control of them they could actually channel them, use them for something instead of just trying to keep them suppressed. 

And just because things were becoming easier didn’t make it easy. It was still hard, many lives were spent distrusting each other and even themselves it’s not something you can just move on from entirely. Even now as Weyoun was waiting with the other Vorta to say goodbye to the Jem’Hadar he still had those thoughts on occasion. Just now he knew he didn’t have to listen to them, that just because they will repeat doesn’t mean they are right.

His own powers had grown quite strong. His telekinesis had developed into something he was rather proud of rather than terrified of. It didn’t take him much effort to move small objects and he had even managed to move one of the shuttles a short distance. That had annoyed the Jem’Hadar, not that they did anything about it really. Not everyone had telekinesis, some had more along the lines of energy controls like Eris or more like powers of projecting images from their mind like Keevan. Speaking of Keevan they had become comfortable with one another. Weyoun wouldn’t say they were friends, but they had grown accustomed to one another. They talked regularly and enjoyed each others company well enough. As the months had moved on the Jem’Hadar became less and less involved with their activities and lives. However they stuck around, until the Vorta had agreed that they no longer needed their help.

“Thank you first Katad’ram.” Kilana said stepping forward.

She’d become a sort of the unofficial leader.

Katad’ram nodded, “Yes we are pleased you will be able to manage on your own in the future.” He gestured to one of the shuttles, “But just in case we are leaving you one of the shuttles, it has communication to Hadar’is if you ever need to contact us.”

Kilana nodded in return, “We hope there will be no use for it.” And that was genuine.

Just about to begin their second year free of the Dominion they found they were enjoying being on their own. Getting to know their home and themselves. Of course the Jem’Hadar weren’t fond of grand goodbyes or pageantry at all so they simply nodded in acknowledgment and left on their ships back to their own home, to deal with their own problems trying to make it without the Founders and the Dominion.

Time continued to move on. The original buildings were soon abandoned as the Vorta began going about making their own homes out of the materials of their planet. The cloning facility would easily keep itself powered for another millennia, their cloned bodies waiting for use should they need them. The Vorta rarely even used artificial light anymore. Their hearing, powers and sense of touch guiding them better than their eyes ever did. Weyoun had begun working with other scientists studying their ancestors. Trying to learn more about themselves through them. He did still have those bad memories. They didn’t just go away once he talked about them, accepted those experiences. No they were still here in his head. They did hurt him sometimes but as he was growing to like who he was, who he was becoming that pain dwindled. Because if it hadn’t been for those experiences he wouldn’t be here. If Weyoun 6 hadn’t taken the risks he did, if he hadn’t decided to contact Keevan on a whim that day, he’d be somewhere far worse. That he knew. Instead of focusing on the could have beens he focused on his future. Learning that the ri’vortas in fact had a language, learning that the Vorta had things so much more interesting things about them than their past as the managers of the Dominion.

As they moved into five years at home discussions began on whether they even wanted to continue to use cloning or whether they wanted to introduce sexual reproduction as an option. While there was wariness about how to raise children given their only experience being with overlooking the training of the Jem’Hadar the idea was something they were at least willing to try. See if it was something that would benefit from. If it didn’t they still had the clones. All the files and knowledge on their cloning process still there, stored safely within the cloning facilities. They had grown more accustomed to their home. Spreading out even, some of the younger generations were even planning a trip to explore the continent they were on by foot. Knowledge of the dangers easily stored on padds to guide them. They rarely even used the replicators anymore. Preferring to get food from the land itself. Encouraging naturally growing edible plants to spread. It was getting to the point where they wished they had asked the Jem’Hadar to take the industrial sized ones with them. It just seemed wasteful to have them sitting around. They didn’t have much use for them when they had learned a much easier, more integrated way to build homes.

Some of them preferred to build their homes in tree tops. The trees of the jungle they were in thick and strong. Easily able to support small structures around them. Weyoun however had stayed with the scientists who had discovered that the ri’vortas were hollowing out a specific tree species because that tree did’nt need it’s center to grow and thrive. A few of the them were trying to figure out if they could encourage greater growth in size so they could have trees large enough for them to hollow out and live inside without disturbing the trees natural life span. For the most part they hadn’t needed their clones much. The three that have died in the years were all younger to mid aged clone lines meaning that their transition to a new body wasn’t anything to worry about. It was certainly a concern, how they were going to manage the first true deaths after the fall of the Dominion. But they felt more prepared for it. The elder lines taking time to note down their own experiences and knowledge in preparation.

The first batch of Vorta that would be capable of sexual reproduction would be born soon. They had decided to not clone them but instead to simulate sexual reproduction and with recreated eggs and DNA donated from the many sources they had on hand. This meant that they didn’t have control over what traits these Vorta would have. Instead it would depend entirely on either nature or themselves depending on how you looked at it. Several of the engineers had reconfigured a few of the cloning pods to act as artificial wombs for them. It was something they were all excited for. The ones traveling the continent were even coming back to witness the arrival of the new generation and possibly new Vorta species. Ones who were not dependent on the structures the Founders had shaped them with. 

Overall worship of the Founders was not necessarily taboo but it wasn’t something any of them did anymore. Because the thing the Federation had gotten wrong was that to them the Founders were gods. They would literally not exist as a species without them. Their very existence was built to be used for their purposes. But they had learned that just because the Founders created them, molded them that doesn’t mean they owned them. As Weyoun and the other scientists learned the idea of owning another living being, of being indebted to them simply for bringing them about was ludicrous. The bushes of fruit did not owe them for giving them resources to encourage their growth. The trees Weyoun was planting that would reach greater size and heights than the ri’vortas homes did not owe them. To bring about life to use it, to make it do something was faulty logic. To assume things should exist only for a purpose and nothing else was something they were all unlearning. Planets do not form for a purpose. Neither do animals or plants. There is no designated design that they all must adhere to. No living thing owed their creators a life debt. No it became clear as the time came and those little Vorta, the ones so small they could be held in their arms arrived, that these little Vorta didn’t owe them anything. The point of bringing about life the Vorta were learning was to see it grow, to watch and help it become the most it can. That the act of creation itself is fantastic and worth doing. Life in and of itself is worth existing. 

No they no longer worshiped the Founders. Just because they are their gods. Just because they would not exist without them. Doesn’t change the fact that the Founders had brought them about for the wrong reasons. But that doesn’t mean they have to stay that way. That they have to keep following the Founders path. The Vorta had a say in their lives and their future. Even if it took them several millennia to see it. So no he doesn’t regret his past iterations. Weyoun is grateful for his past selves, because without them he would have never found his own path to life. 

End of Trials and Tribulations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of this AU for Weyoun and Keevan. I may do something with the Jem'Hadar's side of things for this AU at some point. But I think I'm gonna do a less emotional writing project next.


End file.
